We don't have to be alone
by cianethedevil
Summary: While these and other questions crossed his mind, capturing its attention more and more, Jack realized that he had focused only and entirely the satellite, excluding from his view the starry sky and the ground, and when he tried to turn his eyes away he didn't manage to. Sure that the cause of this was the excessive time spent in contemplation he didn't get worry and tried to close
1. Chapter 1

SEQUEL OF "WHAT GOES TOGETHER BETTER THAN COLD AND DARK?"

NOTE: This story is mpreg. Since it's a strong issue I want to reassure you: I will not write about any topic in a careless or superficial way, nor do I will ever dare to trivialize anything. I will analyse every issue in depth, without simplifying or make look natural what, in reality, is not normal, and I'll made sure to describe every thought and physical sensation in the best way possible.

**WE DON'T HAVE TO BE ALONE – CHAPTER 1**

Perched on the branch of a tree Jack glanced over the surrounding landscape, covered by a thin layer of snow which he himself had dropped to usher in the cold season, and smiled: he had spent the most beautiful spring and summer of his life, winter was coming, the magic staff was in full of its powers and he couldn't be happier.

Months had passed since the day when Pitch, prey of a blind rage, had evoked Behemuth and then sacrificed himself to save him, risking his own life in order to preserve his partner's one and spending a period of convalescence at North's Palace, tenderly attended by the Guardians, and no striking incidents had happened.

As soon as Frost and the Boogeyman had put an end to the forced holiday they had headed to the latter's liar, to check it and make it safe: first of all the man had climbed down into the tunnel which led to the old demon's prison, and, once made sure that it was locked by spells powerful enough, he had personally taken care to close the hatch, using the heavy circular stone which he should have never moved; then, flying from one end to the other of the huge cave, he had briefly looked at every corner, not amazed to find cracks and collapsed walls, given the fury which Behemuth had showed to be able to trigger; finally, after he had retrieved and placed the iron Globe, which had miraculously survived the destruction, he had stared the boy in the eyes and nodded, definitely closing that terrible chapter in their lives.

None of them had taken care to remedy the damages, but, indeed, it was not necessary to do it: Pitch's cave perfectly reflected the state of his powers, showing itself at its utmost gloomy splendour when he was strong and going into decline when he was weakened; therefore, it had been enough less than a week of big game among the children's dreams to bring everything back to normal.

Days had passed, then months, but the Boogeyman had given no sign of change: he had been loving and caring with Jack, he had never exaggerated in carrying out his work, but he had never even opened up, nor talked or asked about the other Guardians any more. The boy had decided to keep quiet and not force him, hiding his pain behind polite smiles and trying to appear cheerful and carefree, but, just when he had lost all his hope, his love had left him stunned. On Easter Sunday, at an early hour, he had gone into North's Palace, landing in the central hall riding Voluptas and making it dissolve with a soft hand gesture; haughty and arrogant as always he had not announced himself, nor expressed a greeting more appropriate than a groan, but he had hastily sat on the carved chair which Santa had made for him, explaining he had showed up just to meet his partner. Despite the initially distant attitude, the man had never shooed the master of the house and Toothiana, the only present Guardians, nor had attempted to avoid striking up a conversation with them; as the conversation had become fluid and relaxed he had let himself go, keeping a controlled tone, but showing to appreciate the company which surrounded him; finally, when Frost had arrived, he had hugged him without embarrassment and he had lingered to drink a tea, savouring it slowly, as though he was in no rush to leave that place.

In hindsight and with the help of the infallible women's intuition of the Tooth Fairy the boy had understood the reason of the long wait: Pitch, in fact, had not only taken some time to clear his mind, but he had also made sure to show up in an occasion on which he knew he couldn't meet Bunnymund, in order to spare himself, at least the first time, the effort to refrain himself from arguing.

To the delight of Jack after that visit there had been others, not frequent, often short, but he couldn't have wished for better: the Boogeyman, finally, was coming out of his shell and learning to interact with the ones he had always considered enemies, and there was no need for him to make all the necessary steps to put an end to his hatred in a single day. The boy was happy to see him take things slow, gradually getting accustomed to a completely new way of life, and to help him when he understood he was in trouble, and when he saw him smile he felt rewarded for all his efforts.

Of course, in addition to those moments spent in company, there had been countless others which they two had reserved for themselves, sharing every experience: from the reading lessons to the rides in the spring meadows full of scented flowers, from the jokes to the horror stories eavesdropped by the hikers gathered around the fire in the summer evenings, from the dissertations about any topic to the walks through the trees dyed of thousands colours by autumn, from the creation of Nightmares to the activation of the staff, from the hugs to the cuddles, from the kisses to the hot caresses they exchanged, moaning against each other's neck, marking each other with their teeth and nails as they reached the complete satisfaction.

Sighing at the memory of those magical moments that he would never forgotten, Frost smiled and stroked the last detail of that picture so perfect: his blue hoodie. He had almost destroyed it in his breathless attempts to save the man, wetting it with his blood and tearing it apart, but when he had heard North saying it was no longer fixable, he had insisted to make him repair it: it had been his outfit for years and years, it had followed him on every adventure and he didn't want to part with it. After days of vigorous washing and meticulous work with needle and thread, the Yeti had returned him a shirt so beautiful it seemed new, clean and perfumed, which Pitch had promptly decorated with fine grains of his black sand, and the boy had considered that final touch the cherry on top of that year so special.

Moving the hand in a soft gesture Jack interrupted the brief snowfall he had caused, making sure to leave a blanket on the ground thin enough not to alarm the inhabitants of the region, but thick enough to allow children to play their first snowball fight of the season, then he settled down on the branch again, resting his back against the log to relax and enjoy his own reflections. The more he mulled, the more he become convinced that his life could not get any better than this: the man he loved loved him back and considered him his most precious treasure, the Guardians were sympathetic and caring friends and collaborative and willing colleagues, the icy power which pervaded the staff was so intense to make it vibrate and almost all the world's children were waiting impatiently for the arrival of winter to receive his visit, what else could he ask for?

Laughing he looked up, staring at the full moon which stood at the centre of the horizon and directing his thoughts to it, or, rather, towards the one who lived in it: for centuries he's been silent spectator of what was happening in the world and, with the exception of Frost's designation, he had never intervened, so it was hard to guess what he thought about the situation. No doubt he was aware of the relationship he had with Pitch, but what was his opinion? He had neither favoured nor hindered it in any occasion, so did he think it was right to let them do what they wanted? Maybe had he changed his mind about the Boogeyman's evil nature? Would he have ever talked to him?

While these and other questions crossed his mind, capturing its attention more and more, Jack realized that he had focused only and entirely the satellite, excluding from his view the starry sky and the ground, and when he tried to turn his eyes away he didn't manage to. Sure that the cause of this was the excessive time spent in contemplation he didn't get worry and tried to close his irises, but, feeling that the muscles weren't reacting, he slightly panicked: he tried with all his strength to move, but the more he struggled, the more he perceived his irises widening and the pupils dilating, absorbing the light which had become so intense to make him cry and so being blinded by it.

When the fear which had gripped him filled him to the point it reached his neck and took his breath away, the spell was broken and the boy got master of his body again, though he was too tired to try to stand up. Gasping he closed his eyes, trying desperately to regain the control of himself and eliminate the annoying bright spots from his retinas, and when he felt ready he opened them to look around.

The landscape which loomed in front of him was definitely different from what he expected: instead of the snowy tundra, where he had been until few minutes before, he saw a flat, monotonous landscape, occasionally interrupted by craters and small rocks and completely covered by a sparkling white powder.

Completely disoriented Frost stood up, shaking the sand off his clothes and trying to figure out what had happened, but, as he struggled to find an explanation for the sudden and unjustified change, he noticed a figure approaching from his right side.

Peering he noticed that it was a man with a physical structure similar to Sandy's: short and chubby, he was dressed with white puffball pants and a shirt, fastened on the waist with a crimson belt, and he wore a funny pair of shoes point upwards and an elaborate jacket, both mustard coloured. His head was completely bald, except for a long, thin tuft of blond hair which grew just above the forehead, defying gravity and standing upright, but falling in its last part in a soft wave; the most noticeable detail, however, was definitely his face: perfectly round, characterized by small and dark eyes and two soft cheeks, was animated by a smile so cheerful and serene to make you feel happy just by looking at him.

Still too confused to do something the boy stood motionless, staring at the stranger who was getting closer and closer, and when he found him few steps far from himself he heard him speak.

«Welcome, Jack».

After a quick reasoning Jack asked: «Are... are you the Man in the Moon?».

«Yes, Jack. I was waiting for you» quietly replied the other.

Unable to hold himself back the boy exclaimed: «You, you're the Man in the Moon! You are my creator! I wanted to meet you since a really long time! Why haven't you ever spoken to me before? I had so many things to ask... Wait, did you say you were waiting for me? Why were you?».

The Man in the Moon laughed softly to that enthusiastic interrogation and commented: «Oh, Jack, you're exactly how you look like: full of energy and unable to hold yourself back. I bet that, if I let you talk, you would go on for hours and hours, am I wrong? So many questions... and so little time: we can't afford to waste time in silly chatter. Come on, I want to show you something».

Slightly dumbfounded at being cut off in that way, Frost fell silent and came after his interlocutor, following him along a meandering path which circumvented the small craters on the surface of what, by now, he had guessed was the moon, and then down a winding stair which dived into the ground.

In few minutes the two reached a large rectangular hall, blinding bright thanks to the glittering dust which covered every surface and to the glass vaulted ceiling, and it took a while to the boy to figure out that the structures which supported it were not trees, but columns: thin and elongated, they dug in the ground with tentacles very similar to roots and, at the top, they split into dozens of appendages resembling branches, which were intertwined one into one the others to form small slices from which the light penetrated.

Intrigued Jack was about to get close and touch them, eager to find out what material they were made of, but the Man in the Moon called him back.

«Come on, Jack: here is what I wanted to show you».

Guiding him down the central aisle he brought him to a higher platform on which stood a perfect reproduction of the Earth: identical every inch to Pitch' Globe it was, instead, milky white and it shined with lights of many colours.

«As you can see, Jack, I own a Globe, too» explained the man; «However, compared to the Guardians' one, it's much more sophisticated. You will have undoubtedly spotted that, instead of the classic single-colour lights, here they are of various types. Each of them is a child who believes in one of you: red symbolizes North, pink Toothiana, green Bunnymund, gold Sandman and blue, of course, you. As you've surely noticed the blue, at this moment, is the predominant colour, and no wonder it is: you are the great novelty and of course, since I appointed Guardian just few months ago, I took care to make the children of the world know you, inducing Sandman to send them dreams about your jokes and evoking snow where the infants wanted it but you couldn't come. Now, however, look at your friends' lights: they are not numerous and not very intense, and, above all, they're not stable. They remain switched on for few hours, then they turn off, sometimes even for days, then they come back on, but only for a little: children who believe in them are increasingly standoffish, and this, in the long run, will weaken them».

Jack stared aghast those little, pulsating lights, feeling a pang in knowing that, for each he saw switch off, a Guardian was losing power and risking to disappear, and he demanded: «Why is this happening? Why have children become so standoffish? In the past they weren't like this, I'm sure: I perfectly remember they spent whole days talking about the gifts they would have found under the Christmas tree or eggs they would have sought on Easter Sunday. What does distract them so much? And why didn't you intervene?».

The interlocutor laughed softly and said: «Jack, do you think that I'm here just for you, and that my purpose is promoting you? It's your responsibility to make sure that children believe in you, not mine: if you don't manage to it simply means that you are not suited to the role that I assigned you, or, alternatively, that the world no longer needs you. However, you must consider that the four Guardians have been existing for centuries and that they've been selected by me with great care, so it's not possible that, all of a sudden, they lost all their abilities: the explanation for what is happening is different. This generation of children is victim of a world in which everything has a scientific explanation, in which growing as quickly as possible is the primary goal, in which making dubious experiences is more important than dreaming: it's a generation disenchanted, bored, devoid of any curiosity and of parents' help. More and more frequently, in fact, adults are too absorbed in their commitments and concerns to notice their children: in order to ease their lives they leave them abandoned to themselves and take no interest in them, occasionally asking them the results they achieved in school or in sports and being absent for the rest of the time, no realizing the beautiful moments they keep losing, nor the childhood they deny their babies. Children like these have no hope for themselves, they don't feel any wonder for what surrounds them, they have no memories worthy to be remembered, nor dreams which encourage them to try to realize themselves: they live hand to mouth, chasing ephemeral desires and withdrawing into themselves».

The boy, who initially had been appalled by the other's arrogant and aloof attitude, was shocked by the revelation and interjected him: «But that's terrible! What can we do to prevent all children become like this? If our powers don't work we have no way to help them!».

«You can't» simply said the Man in the Moon; «There's nothing you can do to save yourself. It's for this reason that I decided to appoint a new Guardian, whose task will be tearing the humans off from their catatonic state, mending the relationships which have been broken or which didn't even ever exist and make the kids happy again and open to experiences more suitable to them».

Frost's eyes lit up when he heard that proposal and he exclaimed, overexcited: «Oh, a new Guardian, seriously? It's a great idea! What will they symbolize? When will you appoint them? But, above all, who will be? The groundhog, by any chance? Because if you choose him I'm afraid you'll have to help Bunnymund recover from the news!».

The man chuckled and commented: «Always ready to joke, is it not so, Jack? No, it won't be the groundhog, nor anyone of the immortal spirits who already inhabit the Earth: none of them is suitable for this task».

Confused the boy asked: «How are you going to appoint a new Guardian without picking them up among the spirits which already exist? Will you choose a human being and transform them as you did with me?».

«Don't be silly, Jack» contested the Man in the Moon; «I didn't choose to make you die, nor to transform you into an immortal being before you saved your sister. Anyway, this is no the time to ramble: no, I will not act as you said, but in a different way. It's for this reason that I called you. Now, hurry up and take off your hoodie».

Taken aback by the absurd request Jack startled and, chuckling nervously, he demanded: «Why should I take it off?».

The man, who all the while had kept his eyes on the Globe, sighed wearily and answered: «I knew you'd give me problems: you're a guy too rebellious and independent to understand that, in certain situations, you should obey without questioning. I don't have time for your whims: you asked for it, Jack».

Without leaving the guy the time even to react he raised his left arm and snapped his fingers, stubbornly his back at him: at that sound hundreds of thin strands of light sprang out of the floor and the surrounding columns, swiftly rushing towards Frost and twisting around his limbs. In the attempt to break free the boy stepped back, writhing to escape the grip, but, faster than lightning, the ropes tightened, definitely immobilizing him and forcing him to his knees, with his back bent and his legs spread.

Raising the head the boy shouted: «Why did you tie me!? What are you gonna do to me?».

The Man in the Moon, finally, turned around, showing a compassionate and touched look, and he murmured: «Oh, Jack, do not worry: it's just for children' sake. Now I will help you to relax».

Advancing with little steps he approached him, a wide smile on his chubby face to calm him, then he put a hand on his head and began to fondle him, ruffling his hair and then going down along the cheek and the jugular. All those thoughtful gestures, however, didn't turn out to be reassuring for Jack at all: the mere proximity of that being whose real intentions he didn't know upset him, his fat and sticky fingers made him be a cold sweat, his slimy touch made him shiver with terror, his hot breath nauseated him and, in general, the whole situation disgusted him in the depths. He couldn't even bear the idea to be next to him, and the fact that the man was cuddling him did nothing but make the experience even more unsettling and disturbing: those short and stubby phalanges were too different from Pitch's tapered ones, the ability with which they managed to stroke his neck's most sensitive spots worrisome and source of growing anxiety, and the fact that, at any moment, they could decide to go even further down cause of disgust and fear.

With the strength born of desperation the boy regained a minimum of audacity and tried to bite the other, then he cried: «Don't you dare to touch me!».

The man, who had deftly dodged the attack, slapped him hard enough to cut his lip, then he grabbed his chin and, fixing his terrible black eyes in his victim's ones, he mocked him: «You like biting, Jack, don't you? I know what you do with Pitch... but I, unfortunately for you, I'm not Pitch. Do you want to complicate things? So be it».

After giving him a backhander, even stronger than the first, to stun him, he placed his palm over his bleeding mouth and evoked a tight gag, enjoying with a smile the silence he obtained; further stretching the ropes which trapped his arms he brought him back with his spine straight, while continuing to force him to his knees, then he bent down and hastily lifted his hoodie and vest.

At that gesture Frost started to panic: what was happening was so absurd to seem unreal. He didn't know why he was there, why the Man in the Moon had chosen him, for what he had chosen him, why he was acting in this way and, above all, what he was going to do. When he felt his sweaty fingertips touching his stomach he screamed against the unknown fabric which prevented him from speaking, but when he perceived them descending decidedly he almost fainted: terrified he tried to wriggle free, without succeeding to, but, just when he was sure he would have felt them going down to violate him, they stopped, dangerously close to the groin, but not in contact with it.

Frozen on the spot, as if, in that way, he could also prevent the other to move, the boy waited, trembling with fear; the man, however, didn't take a long time: in few seconds he firmly pressed his right hand on his lower belly, slightly digging into his flesh, then he draw him towards himself with his left arm, hiding his face against his neck.

«You will be the one who'll give birth to the new Guardian, Jack: only in this way they will be able to acquire all the powers they will need» he murmured directly into his ear.

Jack immediately felt a strong heat in the lower part of his abdomen that soon pervaded him, taking away all his strength and stealing him a soft whine; when the other stepped back, leaving him without support, he couldn't stand by himself and bent down, letting his head hanging down and trying to focus on what was in front of him: with great difficulty he finally managed to, but, as soon as he succeeded, he wished to be blind.

His body, which had all along been skinny and thin, was deformed by a bulge which should have never belonged to it: a bump, small and compact, but equally wrong, softened the lines of his hips, so sweet, and yet so terrible.

Opening wide his irises full of tears the boy began to tremble, looking up at the Man in the Moon as to ask for an explanation of that horror, but in reply he received only a satisfied and derisive grin. Now out of his mind he screamed, writhing to break the ropes which imprisoned him and to flee away him who seemed to be nothing but a deviant abductor: he pulled and pulled, harder and harder, putting even more effort in it when he saw the man approaching to touch him, and, when he was only an inch away from his skin, he managed to break free.

Shouting he fell for several meters, landing on a cold and sandy surface, but when he opened his eyes he had closed in the rush to escape, he realized he was again in the tundra he had personally taken care to cover with snow. Bewildered and confused he postponed to a later time the scanning of the landscape, and instead he hastened to lift up his hoodie and vest, to check the status of his belly; with great surprise he saw that it hadn't changed at all: it was flat, as it had always been, and the hint of abs was not covered by any grotesque bump. As he rubbed his palms on it, as if to make sure it was really okay, he noticed that his lips were no longer cut and the taste of blood wasn't permeating his mouth, and he gasped, dumbfounded: how could those wounds have healed so quickly, since he hadn't taken any medicine?

More and more perplexed he turned his head, to look at the satellite where the disfigurement had been fulfilled, but, to his astonishment, he didn't find it: the sky was perfectly clear and the stars were the only things which lit it up.

Holding his head in his hands Frost laid on the ground and tried to reason: how could he have been able to visit the moon if this was on the other side of the Earth? Maybe had the man who lived there troubled himself to retrieve him and take him back there again, once they had concluded the meeting? It was impossible: the boy was sure he had seen the satellite just before he had found himself on it. Maybe had the other moved it at a later stage, using a spell? No, not even that was possible: he would have needed an immense power to accomplish such a task. Therefore, had it all been just a dream, or, rather, a nightmare?

Covering his face with his hands, as if to hide himself, the boy agreed that it was the only possible answer: he had never visited the moon, he had never met the man who lived there, nor, least of all, he had been tortured by him. Reflecting better, however, a new doubt occurred to him: who could have sent him visions so shocking? Sandman, as the creator of sweet dreams, was regardless ruled out; Pitch, moreover, was an equally improbable candidate: no doubt he was perfectly capable to cause nightmares to anyone, but why should he have attacked the very person he loved? Maybe those gruesome scenes had been sent to someone else, and Frost had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time? Yet even that explanation didn't make sense: the Boogeyman would have never been so cruel to send such a nightmare to an infant.

Curling up on himself Jack tried not to think, loosening the tension which had gripped him for several minutes and relaxing every muscle, and finally he managed to conceive the only possible solution to the enigma: Sandy's golden sand and Pitch's black one should have met and mixed together, struggling to prevail one over the other, but failing, thus giving life to a dream one of a kind, tender and reassuring at times, but creepy and disturbing at others.

Having finally dispelled the panic the boy stood up, retrieving with difficulty his staff, which was still hanging from the branch on which he had perched, then he got ready to leave: he was no longer worried about what he had seen, but he preferred to ask for confirmation to the two spirits concerned.

Recalling the cold northern winds he took off, heading to the west to look for Sandman and smiling at the thought of Pitch: with no doubt the man, hearing the terrible story which he had experienced, would have come to his rescue, comforting him with sweet sentences, hugging him and gently petting him. As always, Frost would have been free to ask him what he wanted most and the Boogeyman would have acquiesced to all his requests: he would have combed his perpetually ruffled hair with his fingers, he would have scratched the back of his head, he would have kissed his face, mouth and neck, he would have massaged his legs and, finally, he would have gently caressed his abdomen, personally checking that nothing was disfiguring it.

Sighing the boy focused on the memories which had pervaded him and the sensations which, shortly thereafter, he would have felt: he desperately needed to lie down beside the man he loved, accept his demonstrations of affection and fall asleep in his arms, dispelling the last shreds of that horrendous experience with golden dreams.

With these thoughts firmly fixed into his mind he freed more power from his staff, increasing the speed of the wind he was travelling on, and without any fear of falling he quickly flew over the ocean, chasing the sun to finally sleep.

I hope you liked this first chapter! Just to make things clear: "my" Man in the Moon is not a beast. He surely behaved in a cruel way, but he did that for a reason. Please notice that I'm not justifying his attitude, but just saying you don't know all the story yet, nor his real thoughts or how he perceive the situation. In chapter 10 there will be a part described from his point of view, where you'll surely manage to understand him better, but feel free to ask me whatever you want.

Next chapter will be published on Saturday. From now on I'll publish once a week, generally on Saturday, and I'll do this both to be regular and to make you become accustomed to my normal pace. Before I can translate, in fact, I need to write the story in italian, and generally it takes me from seven to twelve days, depending on how busy I am, so you can easily understand it would be pretty stupid rushing and updating every three days, and then disappearing for two weeks or more. Moreover, even if I'm satisfied by the fact I managed to translate the first fanfiction pretty quickly, I have to admit that keeping that pace has somewhen been difficult for me and tired me, especially during this month when I had (and still have) exams, and, since I have more exams in September, it's better for me not to run and take things more slow, also making sure to translate in advance in order to have some chapters in reserve and not feel under pressure.

See you on Saturday!


	2. Chapter 2

Sorry for the little late, the gentle girl who checks my translations was busy

**WE DON'T HAVE TO BE ALONE – CHAPTER 2**

Deftly riding the rapid winds he had evoked Jack took less then half an hour to get to the one he was looking for, locating him over the North-East America. Enchanted he stopped and allowed himself few seconds to admire the magnificent view: the fading sun was going down and down beyond the horizon, disappearing under it, and, against the backdrop of that sky of thousand warm colours which was turning darker, it stood Sandman's cloud of magic sand, so bright, so fluffy, so reassuring in the midst of the shadows which became thicker and thicker. Thin ribbons branched off from it, more and more numerous, each heading towards a child who would have soon been entertained by sweet dreams; the boy was badly tempted to approach them and dove his hands in them, revealing the wonderful visions they were bringing in themselves, but he restrained himself: he was still slightly upset by the horrible nightmare he had experienced, to the point he was afraid he could corrupt the sparkling sand, and he preferred to hurry and finally dispel any doubt.

Frost flew, covering the short distance which separated him from his friend Frost landed on that hovering platform, not amazed to feel it perfectly solid under his feet, and he announced: «Good evening, Sandy! Always busy, huh?».

The little Bringer of Dreams, in response, waved his arms, creating a small otter of gold dust and sending it to him. Laughing the boy stroked it, letting it scraping itself against his neck and sweatshirt and snoop in his hood and in his pocket, and he played a little with it, patiently waiting for its creator to accomplish his task; after few minutes Sandy rubbed his hands together, evidently pleased with the work he had carried out, then he turned, approaching the other with a large smile.

«You're always diligent, Sandy: you're the delight of all the children» praised him Jack.

Hearing this compliment Sandman blushed slightly, deflecting it with a quick gesture, then he made appear on his head the silhouette of the boy in the air, dropping from his staff fine snowflakes.

«Oh, sure, I'm working hard, too: we are almost in the middle of October and it's time for me to bring winter in the northern countries! Speaking of which, I wanted to ask you a question: a while ago I was in Europe to evoke a small storm and, since I was a little tired, I fell asleep and I had a very strange dream. To your knowledge, could your sand and Pitch's one have got mixed together before coming to me?».

The little Bringer of Dreams immediately turned angry and punched his palm, clearly miming the preparation for a boxing match, but Frost laughed and stopped him: «No, no, do not overdo it! Mine was only a simple question: I'm not sure if it really happened. I just wanted to know if it's possible for your sands to mix together without any contaminating the other, and, in this case, if you can become aware of what is happening».

Sandy frowned and began to reflect, clearly troubled by the question, and perhaps also by the inability to colour his sand to create useful images to respond him in an understandable way, but in the end he opted for a simple but effective solution: he shrugged, assuming on his face an expression lost and doubtful, and he opened his arms to emphasize the message.

Guessing what the other wanted to communicate the boy said: «Oh, so you don't know, too, right? I expected it... Actually, as you're definitely thinking, too, I don't believe your sand and Pitch's one can stay in contact without fighting each other, but, who knows?, maybe I'm wrong. Maybe they can withstand in contact for long, maybe they mixed together only few seconds before they reached me, or maybe that dream was just a figment of my imagination, I know that can happen: Pitch explained it to me. In any case, you never know what happens to your sand, am I wrong? Once you send it to children you can't feel it if it gets corrupted or not».

Sandman nodded, then he shaped a big question mark on his head.

Puzzled Jack asked: «Are you wondering what I dreamed by any chance? Oh, no, don't worry: it was a dream without rhyme or reason. Surely the fatigue played me a bad joke, or I would have never imagined such a thing. However, as I said, you don't have to worry: it was nothing important».

Pursing his lips for the concern the little Bringer of Dreams approached him, stroking his forearm to reassure him, but he didn't insist, and instead he shaped a small ball of bright sand in his hand and he offered it to him.

Amazed the boy blushed and said: «Oh, thank you, Sandy, but, as I said, there is no need to worry: I'm fine. I'd love to get some rest, and surely the dream that you just created for me would help me to recover, but I want to get some sleep with Pitch, and I cannot do it if you make me doze off here. Some other time perhaps, okay? Thanks anyway for your trouble».

Hearing what he was about to do Sandy cheered up and, after dissolving the dream he had evoked, he created a small trampoline of golden sand which stuck out from the cloud to facilitate Frost's departure.

«You're always so kind, Sandy: thank you, thank you very much, and see you soon!» concluded the boy.

Willing to thank him properly he freed the otter and knelt in front of him, hugging him tightly, then he stood up and, taking a run-up, he threw himself into the sky, calling the same winds he had used to get there and starting to seek his lover.

After an hour of exhausting and fruitless searches Jack gave up and went to Pitch's lair, praying in his heart that he had concluded his night of work and was already there: he would have much rather preferred to know for sure where was, but, unfortunately for him, he didn't manage to concentrate enough to perceive him and he hadn't had the luck to meet one of his Nightmares. Puffing he climbed down the tunnel he usually used to get in, then, after a short walk, he came out in the central cave, finding it more gloomy and frightening than ever: the Boogeyman had evidently worked hard in that period, taking advantage of the waiting for Halloween to fortify himself, as he had revealed to him in advance few months ago.

Postponing the supervision of that place to another time the boy immediately entered a hallway, apparently identical to all the others, but unmistakable for him, and went into his partner's bedroom, finding it, unfortunately, empty.

Snorting he railed against his bad luck: he really felt the need to stay next to his love, tell him what he had experienced to vent, be pampered and reassured, and finally fall asleep, resting quietly in his arms, but, of course, he would have to wait.

In an attempt to distract himself he went back in the main cave and explored it from top to bottom: he checked one by one all the new cages and chains that adorned it and he rattled them with slight breeze on which he flew, laughing at the scaring squeaks they emitted, then he decided to have some fun. First he tied together the iron rings, creating a sort of garland which encircled almost the entire room, then he climbed on it, trying to move from a cage to the other without using his powers. After he had touched all of them twice he changed game and, causing a storm in miniature, he began to create various snowmen; disappointed by his anonymous army, he had a small inspiration and worked to shape each of its components to give them the Guardians' appearance: first he created the North, impressive in his long coat and thick beard; then he created Sandy, making sure to style his hair exactly as he used to; then he created Toothiana and Bunnymund, using the ice to manage to model the former's transparent wings and the latter's long ears; finally, he created himself and Pitch, in each other's arms, tenderly united in a pose which forewarned sleep.

As if on purpose Jack yawned, realizing only in that moment all the tiredness he had accumulated in the previous days, unduly aggravated by the disturbing visions he had had, so he gave up and decided to go to sleep without waiting for the partner: it was not the first time he had been found asleep in his bed, and the Boogeyman had never complained about that, taking the opportunity, indeed, to lie down beside him and cuddle him.

Staggering a little the boy reached the room and undressed, nonchalantly throwing the garments on a small higher platform the man had created specifically for that purpose: since he had got involved with Pitch he had never slept in his clothes, because they bothered and hindered him, but, more importantly, they prevented him from feeling the other's skin pressed against his own. Now naked he crouched on the mattress, wrapping himself in the black and soft blanket the Boogeyman had given him months before and rejoicing when he smelled his perfume on it: it was not exactly like having him there with him, but it quite effectively reproduced his touch and his presence, so it reassured him enough.

Calming down he closed his eyes, hoping to be able to regain his strength in time to see his love coming, then he sighed and, without even noticing, he quickly fell into a deep sleep.

During that brief nap which he had allowed to himself Jack didn't dream anything: he just slip into a darkness featureless and compact, which enveloped him like the blanket Pitch had given him and made him lose consciousness, denying him happy visions, but sparing him upsetting nightmares.

After an indeterminate time, but probably not very long, something intervened to disturb him: something soft, warm and incredibly insistent. In fact, despite the boy had at first turned and then curled up on himself in order to escape the annoyance, that unknown entity had followed him, rubbing itself against his neck and his chest and bothering him in every way; huddling up even more Frost tried one last time to dodge it, but in the end, defeated, he had to give up and wake up.

Instinctively he raised his arms to move them to his face and rub his eyes, but he bumped into something; too tired to do anything else he renounced and stood there, waiting a minute for his mind to become clear enough, then he opened his eyes and, as he expected, given the musky scent which permeated the air, he found himself in front of his partner, bent over him and intent on torturing him with sweet kisses.

Chuckling he said: «Welcome back, Pitch».

The Boogeyman, in response, merely emitted a stifled groan, without even interrupting what he was doing.

Not bothered at all by the morning courting the boy let him do what he wanted and enjoyed the view of the man's male chest: in fact his partner had not, as usual, laid down next to him, but he had approached him by the head, crawling to him until Jack had found his collarbone just above the tip of his nose. It didn't take much time to him to explain the reason of that strange position: as soon as he tried to stretch his legs he felt immediately his feet bumping against the wall and he realized he had slipped to the bottom of the bed, leaving no room beside himself for the other.

While he reflected Pitch stuck out his tongue and drew a small, wet trail around his nipple, then he licked the areola, and, shook by a hot chill, the boy moaned weakly and provoked him: «Mh, Pitch, already?».

Chuckling the man brought his irises up to his and replied: «You make me find you completely naked in my bed and then you want me to hold myself back? Not even in your wildest dreams. And then, today you have such an irresistible scent...».

Almost without finish to speak he closed his eyes, going down to inhale his hair and neck's scent, and Jack followed him, turning his head to leave him more space. As soon as he sensed him coming back along his cheek, however, he hastened to meet him, and he opened his mouth, waiting impatiently: he almost melted when he perceived him placing his lips on his, lighter than a feather, and he groaned when he felt him slip his tongue between them, looking for his to deepen the contact. Tilting a little his head the boy let himself being captivated and he answered, trying to get used to that new kiss: at first, in fact, he didn't dare to move, fearing he could annoy his love by inadvertently bumping his pointed chin or his pronounced nose; after a while he managed to relax, chancing few little bites and realizing that that position was perhaps even more comfortable than the normal one; in the end, though, Pitch stepped back, breaking that tender union and heading towards his stomach.

Frost let out a faint whimper as he felt him moving away, but he soon turned it into a warm sigh when he realized what his goal was: he helped him throwing aside the blanket, which had become a useless barrier, he opened his legs to offer himself to him better and stroked his sternum with his fingertips, as to entice him to take what he wanted. The Boogeyman, of course, didn't need to be asked twice: after few caresses on the inner thigh, specifically with the purpose of making him shiver with anticipation, he kissed his already hard cock, then took it into his mouth.

The boy arched at that gesture, trying not to move his pelvis in order not to choke his love, and to follow thrill which had crossed him he stretched his arms, scratching the mattress and moaning. Unable to stroke the Boogeyman's hair easily he preferred to caress his thin hips and knees, which lightly sank in the bed right next to his ears, and he got an idea: going up with the phalanges to the other's groin he touched it, not amazed to find it already turgid, then he tore the fabric that covered it, leaning on an elbow to reach it. Just as his partner had done shortly before he opened his lips, capturing his cock between them, and he rejoiced when he realized that that position was nothing short of perfect for what he wanted to do: slightly tilting his head, in fact, he was able to take his member down his throat, while still maintaining sufficient freedom of movement to manage to properly stimulate it with the tongue and feeling a sense of suffocation much smaller than usual.

Smiling impishly at that useful and exciting discovery Jack immediately began to suck and, in short, he was completely lost in the pleasant sensations which he was giving and, at the same time, receiving: for each lick he gave, in fact, he felt one in return, whenever he pressed his erection against the palate he perceived his love do the same, when he bared his teeth to tease him he sensed him imitating him, and so on, in a series of gestures new and repeated which boded to bring him faster and faster to the satisfying epilogue. It was incredibly exciting being able at the same time to dominate and be dominated, to moan and make mean, to lead and follow, and soon, for the boy, it was too much to bear: shivering he realized that he couldn't support himself on his elbows for any longer, so he threw his left arm around the man's waist; thanks to this trick he managed to resist for about ten seconds, but, after this time, he had to gave up and let himself go on the mattress, arching his back to follow the chills which crossed his body.

Just when few other movements would have been enough to bring him to the limit, Pitch broke away from him, panting for a moment to catch his breath, then he grabbed him behind the left knee and pulled, dragging him with himself and making him turn until Jack was exactly under him; staring into his eyes with his misted ones he kissed him passionately one last time, taking his breath away and letting his trousers, the only garment he had ever worn that morning, dissolving; finally, he opened his legs even more, settling on his own, and he got ready to penetrate him.

At first Frost shivered with anticipation, eager to welcome him inside himself, but, as soon as he felt him pushing against his entrance, he was gripped by a wave of panic and, pressing his palms on his shoulders to block him, he screamed: «No!».

The Boogeyman groaned frustrated at the refusal, but he did his best to hold himself back, arching the spine to stop its movement and then collapsing on him, clearly amazed at what had happened; the boy, after all, was in his same situation: why on earth had he stopped him? He was flattered by his attentions, as always, he was excited, he longed with all his might to join him and feel him leading the intercourse, with the mixture of sweetness and violence which connoted him, so why, at the last, had he denied him satisfaction? Why, for the first time since he had met him, had he been afraid he could hurt him?

The man, raising himself, interrupted the train of his thoughts and stammered: «J-Jack, you should have told me immediately you didn't feel like doing it».

Jack felt terribly guilty about that sentences and he tergiversated: «No, it's not as you think, it's just...».

Seeing him hesitate Pitch took his face in his hands, gently petting him and sending him a tender look, then he reassured him: «Jack, my baby, you don't need to justify yourself: if you don't feel like doing it, you don't feel like doing it, and there's nothing more to add. I don't want you to feel guilty: you don't need not go all the way, especially if you're not comfortable with it. I told you to warn me simply because I don't want to risk to force you doing something you don't like. Now, what about some cuddles?».

Slightly reassured by his partner's positive reaction the boy calmed down, but, eager to give him at least an explanation for his sudden and abrupt refusal, he began to think aloud.

«Pitch, I was not lying before: it's not what you think. I wanted you, badly, I do want you even now, though, I don't know, at that moment I got scared. Do not feel guilty, please: I love your behaviour, I like how you treat me and I do not want you to change. This time, though, perhaps, I just would like you to be softer».

The Boogeyman, who, concentrated, had stared at him all the time, sighed and asked in a thoughtful tone: «Are you absolutely sure you want to continue? Wouldn't you rather stop here, being pampered a little and then continue another time? I won't get angry or offended if you tell me that you do not want to go on today».

Frost looked back at him and, with a resolute expression, he replied: «Yes, I'm sure».

The man smiled at him, caressing his hair gently, then he leaned over and whispered in his ear: «All right, Jack: if you tell me that you really want to do it I'll believe you. I'll go on, but do not worry: I'll be extremely soft».

Pitch had explicitly promised he would have been soft, but Jack would have never expected from him such a care and patience, not after he had denied him an intercourse. First, the Boogeyman had taken him in his arms, hugging him and scratching his nape; when he had felt him relax he had made lay down and he had literally covered him with kisses, from the temples to the palms, from the palms to the collarbones, from the collarbones to the toes and then back again, from the heels along the inner part of the leg up to his groin; once there, he had opened his mouth, taking his cock never softened to give him the satisfaction previously denied, and he had settled down on the mattress to get comfortable.

In hindsight, the boy understood the reason for that position: the man, in fact, had courted him for long, taking up the erection in his throat and then letting it escape from his lips to stimulate it with the tip of his tongue, rubbing it against the palate and slightly scratching it with his teeth, bobbing his head slowly so as to almost drive him mad, and, in the meantime, he had tormented him with his hands, caressing his thighs to excite him and then moving to his chest to appease the chills which crossed him.

Frost had resisted for more than ten minutes, remaining motionless to leave complete freedom to the other, but in the end, he couldn't hold himself back and grabbed his right hand, hoping the tug would have induced him to increase the pace; seeing that that spring of initiative had had no effect he sighed, frustrated, and he decided to express himself in a more explicit way: after gently kissing his fingers he took them in his mouth, sucking three at once and trying to show all the passion he could to make him understand the desire he felt.

After few minutes Pitch pulled back his hand, lightly brushing his lips as a sign of gratitude, then he brought it between his legs and started to massage his entrance: proceeding very slowly he penetrated him with a single finger, gently sliding it in him to let him get used to the intrusion, making every effort to spare him the pain, and only when he felt him perfectly relaxed he dared to insert a second phalanx.

At that gesture the boy could no longer restrain himself, brought close to the limit too many times to be able not to pass it, and he came, letting out a high-pitched and liberating moan which echoed in the room; the Boogeyman, who had continued to stimulate him even during the orgasm, raised his head a moment, impishly licking his own lips to show him how much he appreciated his gift, then lowered it again, picking up with his work from where he had left off.

Jack shuddered when he felt the heat wrapping again his erection still hard, but he didn't complain: he opened his legs to leave him more room, he barely noticed the third finger which penetrated him and unconsciously began to move toward the hand which was giving him satisfaction and which, however, was the creator of a union that could only be a pale imitation of what he wanted.

As if reading his mind the man raised himself up, reaching his eye level, and the boy replied promptly to the unspoken question: throwing his arms around his neck he pulled him close, he half closed his eyelids to tempt him with his opacified gaze and he whispered: «Take me».

Closing his eyes to handle a request so provocative and follow the thrill of excitement which had crossed him in hearing it, Pitch pulled himself together and got ready: he pulled back his fingers, settled between his open legs and, stroking his neck to reassure him, he penetrated him. He proceeded with a slow movement, in order not to hurt him, but also fluid, in order not to take things too far and, perhaps, because of the excessive impatience accumulated; whatever was the reason which induced him to do so, however, Frost didn't complain: not only he had not experienced the slightest pain, but also no burning friction. He marvelled a lot at this: he had now got used to that sensation, more pleasant than unpleasant for his nerves, and he had accepted the idea to feel it always during the first minutes of an intercourse, and then sense it disappear shortly after, thanks to his partner's skills and experience; in this case, oddly, it hadn't arisen at all, and he had been able to understand that he had joined the other just for the sweet sense of wholeness which had caught him.

Brushing his back only with his fingertips, to thank him for all the gentleness he had used, the boy looked for his lips, drawing him into a passionate kiss, and the Boogeyman immediately took charge, rubbing his open palms on the side in order not leave any part of his body unclaimed. After a while he ventured a timid thrust, to which Jack replied with a satisfied moan, so he decided and began to move, dictating a slow and steady pace, but no less exciting.

Unable to follow him the boy kissed him one last time, then he turned his head, offering him the jugular; the man, for his part, didn't need to be asked twice and pounced on him, refraining himself from biting it and simply limiting himself to suck it and redraw it with his tongue.

Bewitched by his partner Frost hugged him, responding to his gentle pampering with soft caresses, and Pitch did the same, sliding his hands under his back and holding him, lifting him from the mattress just enough to make the sheets tickle his skin, sighing softly against his neck to let him know how much he appreciated that embrace.

Opening his mouth more, in the attempt to breathe easily and not to groan, the boy emptied his mind and tried to immerse himself in that act of kindness and passion: it was nothing short of sublime feeling the other above himself, intent to court him, sensing his every slightest movement, conceived to give him the most intense pleasure, hearing his voice, though muffled, perceiving his boundless love in every gesture, from the tender way he held him in his arms to the caring one with which he his pelvis to prevent him from slipping.

Jack closed his eyes, to better enjoy those wonderful feelings which filled him, but soon he realized that the other was close to the orgasm, so, groping in the darkness, he moved to his ear and whispered: «C-come inside me!».

He couldn't explain himself the reason of that request: except for very rare occasions, happened more because of bad luck than of real intention, the Boogeyman had always reached the limit inside him, without asking for a permission or receiving any explicit desire, so there was no reason to fear that this time he would have refrained himself from doing so. The man, however, perhaps thanks to his understanding attitude, perhaps, more likely, because he was too lost to think through, said nothing and pleased him: sliding his right hand on his cock, to stimulate it one last time, he hold him tightly, then, after two hard thrust, he came inside him.

A heat much more intense than usual took Jack's lower belly, dripping on his loins like warm honey, warming him to the depths: with a smile he let himself be pervaded by that feeling, as new as pleasant, curling his feet and barely noticing he had had an orgasm, too, then he relaxed.

Little hot chills were still crossing his body, but the boy could didn't even manage to shiver: he was used to temporarily lose strength after an intercourse, but at that moment he felt completely and definitely exhausted. Groaning with the effort he turned his face, glad to see Pitch doing the same, and he stared at him, unable to do anything else.

Probably realizing what his conditions were the Boogeyman kissed him and whispered on his lips: «I love you, sweetie».

Moved Frost smiled and a tear rolled down his left eye, but, before he could even think to answer, he capitulated, closing his eyes and slipping into a deep sleep.

After his declaration Pitch had, as usual, hidden his face against Jack's neck: even though they'd been together for months now he always felt embarrassed during this kind of moments, so much that, customarily, he confessed his love only rarely and always when the other was sleeping; on this occasion, however, he hadn't been able to hold back himself: the way in which the boy had given himself had been so sweet, the embrace in which he had welcomed him so full of tenderness, his expression serene so moving that the Boogeyman had almost not noticed that "I love you" escaped from his own lips.

To dispel the shame he felt because he had let himself go to that point he immediately started to court his jugular, remaining inside him to enjoy as long as possible the burning heat of his abdomen, and he smiled when he felt the other turning his head and opening his legs, to leave him space and make him feel comfortable while he was pampered. Taking advantage of that silent but explicit consent he passed his tongue on every inch of skin, not daring to suck it when he saw how much it had reddened and been softened; then he moved up to the ear, and finally to his chin, ready to steal him another kiss, but once there he froze, too shocked to do anything.

Frost had not just relaxed, indulging beneath him to try to recover, but he had directly fallen into a deep sleep, his expression calm, albeit exhausted, and the look of being perfectly at ease. The man had to make a great effort not to burst out laughing: he was now accustomed to that breakdowns, which the boy continued to have despite the experience gained in the past months, but he had never seen him capitulate before the end of the intercourse.

Disentangling with difficulty his arms he broke the embrace, straightened his back and got ready to clean up the other's chest, but, to his astonishment, he found it perfectly dry: evidently, despite he had came just for the second time, Jack had not poured his own semen. Thinking the reasons of this could be the fact he had courted him for long and the fatigue which his partner, given the season, had certainly accumulated for his hard work, Pitch tried not to give too much importance to it and focused, rather, on how to end the union without waking him up or hurting him: first he brought his thighs on his own, settling them them so that they could not fall or get in his way; then, softly pressing on his belly, he moved, slowly slipping out of him and letting out a sigh when he escaped his hot tightness; finally, after cleaning him with a shred of dark cloth, readily evoked, to leave him completely dry, he laid down beside him.

He allowed himself few seconds of rest to recover from that intercourse which, albeit sweet and calm, had worn him out as much as a passionate one, for the willpower he had had to employ to restrain himself: it had been terribly difficult keeping a controlled pace when he wished with all his might to grab him from the hips, forcing him under himself and thrusting deep inside him, until he could hear his scream of pleasure, but he had imposed himself not to do that for Frost's sake. It didn't matter if his perfume had been so intense to stun him, it didn't matter if the heat in his abdomen had grown to the point it had become almost unbearable, it didn't matter if the penetration had been even easier than usual, it didn't matter if his muscles had tightened even more around his cock, nothing of this did matter: if the boy had asked to be treated softly it had been because he felt the need of it, and the Boogeyman preferred to do violence to himself rather than to him.

Realizing he was too tired to resist for a long time he decided to get ready for bed: he had worked hard all night, and also during the nights before, and he had the big game on Halloween ahead, so it was better for him not to wear himself out.

After making Jack lay down on his side he retrieved his robe, which he had taken off before he had started to court him, then he rolled it up into a ball under his head, so that his neck would have not been tensed in unnatural positions, causing him cramps; draping the soft blanket on them both he crouched behind him, holding him in a gentle hug and bending his legs, to completely surround his curled figure; finally, after placing a slight kiss on his temple, he settled his head in the crook of his neck and closed his eyes, slowly slipping into a deep sleep.

Vampira86 made me a wonderful fanart. As usual, you can find it on my tumblr, and also at the end of this chapter published on AO3

Remember when I stated I would have published every Saturday? I was joking. I wanted to say every Friday. So, see you next Friday night (Italian time zone)! Don't be afraid to leave me a comment, if you want to: I love talking with my readers. Have a nice day


	3. Chapter 3

As you know I can't answer to the comment you leave me as guests, so I thank you here! You made my day

**WE DON'T HAVE TO BE ALONE - CHAPTER THREE **

For the second time in that day Jack slept without having any dream: he simply slipped into a darkness without shape or volume, so deeply immersed in it not to even realize the time passing. At one point it seemed to him that something was trying to disturb his sleep, shaking him just enough to remind him that he was still alive and he still had a body, but, whatever it was, it disappeared almost immediately, preventing him from identifying it and letting him rest in peace.

When, in the end, he woke up, he was completely sure that he had fallen asleep only few minutes before, because he felt so tired he almost didn't have the strength to lift his eyelids; determined to fall asleep again he bowed his head, but the curiosity had its way, so, focusing to open his eyes, he sought his lover.

He found him immediately, and he immediately marvelled: he expected to surprise him in his sleep, tenderly nestled on the mattress while trying to recover from the intercourse and, at the same time, to steal him a hug, but instead he saw him fully awake, tensed and with the irises full of concern.

Leaning on an elbow Pitch rose and, bending over him, he asked him in an anxious tone: «Jack, are you fine?».

The boy mumbled weakly, feeling his mouth completely dried out, but in the end he managed to answer: «Mh, well, I feel a little tired, but it's normal: I haven't slept for long».

The Boogeyman stared at him intently and replied: «You slept for sixteen hours straight».

Wincing at that revelation Frost addressed him a questioning look, and the other said: «You fell asleep before we parted, you never spoke or let out a lament, nor tried to move, unlike the usual. You continued to sleep deeply even when I tried to wake you up, four hours ago, and now you tell me this: you're not fine, Jack».

The boy rubbed his eyelids, in order to wipe away the sleepy expression that he certainly had on his face, then he replied: «No, Pitch, do not exaggerate: I only slept more than usual. You shouldn't worry, it's a thing which could happen sometimes: who knows, maybe I didn't rest well, or maybe I was just really tired».

The man frowned, leaning over him almost to touch him with the tip of his nose, carefully checking his irises and skin, and eventually he conceded: «Indeed you have nothing wrong: your eyes are clear, but not bright with tears or fever, your skin is light and cool as usual, your pulse and breath are regular and, apart from this sudden sleep, I don't see anything abnormal. It must be just a little tiredness: there is no other explanation. Now, however, you should get up, even if you don't feel well-rested: sleeping too much is not good, neither for the body, nor for the mind. Do you feel like doing it? I can show you how I changed the main cave, or we could go out and catch some fresh air: I'm sure it would help you to recover. You don't need to push yourself too much: it is sufficient for you to stay active for few hours, then, if you want, you can sleep again».

Jack took a moment to reflect, torn between laziness and diligence, too tired to get up and too bored to sleep, and eventually he gave way to the second impulse: since he had opened his eyes he felt his limbs so heavy to seem made of lead and his mouth so dried up he could barely speak, and he couldn't wait to drive out those two annoying sensations with a healthy walk.

«Of course, willingly: I just need a bit of fresh air to wake me up! Can you pass me my clothes?» he emphatically suggested.

Reaching out his right hand over the mattress Pitch grabbed his clothes, which he had evidently folded and carefully settled to pass the time, and he handed them to him, patiently waiting for him to wear them and taking care to personally arrange every wrinkle or tie out of place. When he was satisfied with the result he opened his arms, evoking thin tentacles of magic sand and weaving them together, and in few seconds he recreated the trousers and the robe he used to dress with; he looked at himself for a while, probably to make sure that the cloth was compact and tight as ever, then he got off the bed and offered a hand to his love, in order to invite him do the same.

No needing to be asked twice the boy accepted his help, grabbing his thoughtful forearm while he uncertainly stood on his feet and not leaving it even as he retrieved the staff, then he let himself be led down the corridor, soon getting into the central hall; after a short panoramic tour, during which he listened to his partner describing the improvements made to the cages and he showed him the snowmen he had shaped, he expressed the desire to visit a place more light and airy to finally dispel the fatigue and the man nodded, accompanying him to an opening they had never used.

Proceeding confident behind him, along a tunnel which grew more and more narrow and tortuous, Frost never allowed himself to panic, even when he had to rotate the torso and walk sideways in order to advance, and eventually, as he expected, he reached the end of that passage and came out in the open. Initially hampered by the Boogeyman's figure which was blocking the view and by the shrubs which covered the ground, he didn't pay much attention to the landscape and rather made sure to shake the dust off his hoodie and not to stumble, but when he decided to look up he stood literally speechless.

In front of him, in fact, there was a small basin, a paradise in miniature which the water had carved over the centuries in the stone, eroding it, softening it, reshaping it to dig a sinuous canal in which flow quietly, gently stroking what it had destroyed and adapted to its will. The walls of stratified rock were perfectly smooth, albeit uneven, and they closed the pond in high walls in every direction, except for the west side, where, with difficulty, they opened up, revealing a glimpse of heaven, a tiny portion of the horizon reddened by the sunset.

Enchanted by the sight of the dying sun the boy stared at the star, following it with his eyes until he saw it disappear over the mountains, and only at that point he managed to shake himself and turn around to gaze at what he had left behind; he immediately regretted not having done it before: now the light was almost gone and the shadows, already dense by nature in a place so sunken, darkened visibly, devouring every detail and making everything flat and grey. Fortunately, the relationship with Pitch had made him get quickly used to the gloom: although he wasn't really sensitive to the light rays his partner often preferred to remain in the darkness, where he felt much more at ease, and Jack had soon imitated him, indulging both his nature and his own; therefore he simply had to wait less than a minute to see emerging from the darkness every single detail of this magnificent eden.

Unlike what he had imagined the water didn't gush from the ground, but it leaked straight from the top of that small cave, splitting up in thin rivulets and wetting it for a long stretch, creating a trick of reflections in constant motion; flowing between a stalagmite and the other made its way down, collecting into a perfectly circular pool, crystal clear, but so deep to seem bottomless, lingering in it until it altogether stop and become more polished than a mirror; just when it was almost impossible distinguish it from the starry sky which recreated in itself, however, it resumed its way, slipping quietly into the channel it had dug out and disappearing with a slight murmur in the undergrowth. Everything in the basin, with the exception of the riverbed and some portions of the wall so sloping to be incumbent, was completely covered with moss, to which, in the flat parts, were added fine blades of grass, and the central area was adorned with minute white flowers of which the boy didn't know the name, but whose beauty he was still able to appreciate.

Bending down he caught one of them, bringing it close to his face to see it better and rejoicing to see that its petals, at external appearance completely snowy, were actually flecked with purple, black and dark blue in their inner part, as if the Boogeyman himself had taken care to embellish them with his own essence, then he commented: «I don't really know what to say, Pitch: this place is beautiful».

«That's incredible, I managed to silence Jack Frost himself!» mocked him the man.

«Well, what's so strange about it?» asked Frost; «Between the two you are the chatterer: you're so in love with your own voice that you spend hours and hours talking just in order to hear it».

«As if you were disappointed by this fact» retorted Pitch, piqued.

The two remained tensed for few seconds, stealing a glance at each other, the brows frowned, then, in unison, they burst into a laughter: they loved teasing each other in that way, everyone trying to provoke the partner, and now they did it so often they were on the same wavelength, understanding immediately when the joke started and never risking to misinterpret any apparent criticism.

Soothing the hilarity the Boogeyman explained: «I'm glad to know you like it. Actually, as you can see, it's rather uncomfortable using it to get into my lair, but sometimes I prefer to labour in order to be able to gaze at it. It's been a long time since I decided to show it to you, but I preferred to wait: those little flowers bloom only in this season and I really wanted you to see them».

Touched the boy replied: «They are beautiful, Pitch: they have an intense perfume, even though they are so small, and wonderful colours. Watching them closely, I noticed that they are not just white, but they are mottled with purple, blue and even black in the inner part: it seems that my essence and yours have been merged together in a single flower».

The man winced at that description, clearly taken aback by such an intuition that, in two simple sentences, had revealed what he had treasured in his mind for months, then he muttered: «Do not exaggerate, poet! They are flowers and nothing else. Instead, why don't you get a move on? Until five minutes ago you yearned for stretching your legs, now don't you tell me you've changed your mind!».

Looking up at the sky, amused by the umpteenth demonstration of his lover's shyness, Jack threw him the staff and concluded: «Okay, okay, wallflower, I'm coming! Keep me the staff for a moment: I want to drink a little».

Jumping from a clump of moss to the other he reached the other side of the basin, where a small low-level platform allow an easy access to the pond, then he knelt down and plunged his hands into the water; shivering a little in feeling it so cold to be almost close to freezing he didn't lose his heart and, taking a deep breath, he squirted it on his face, then he took a small amount in his cupped palms and he slowly sipped it.

Perceiving the icy liquid flowing on his skin and along its throat was a sensation perhaps a bit upsetting, but definitely stimulating: in a blink of an eye all the tiredness and the apathy he had felt until then disappeared, slipping away from his limbs together with those minute drops, and when he stood up he felt invigorated and perfectly ready to face the imminent winter.

«I'm ready» he exclaimed, running to reach his partner.

Shaking his head Pitch stopped him, tore off a piece of his robe and dried him, rubbing the cloth several times on his cheeks and among his fingers to make sure not to leave any trace of moisture, then he repaired his garment and said: «Sometimes you do act like a child, Jack. Come on, let's go».

Having sensed at what latitude they were Jack decided to make a gift to Pitch, in order to thank him for that beautiful piece of paradise he had showed him: with an agile movement he jumped on a rock, then on a branch, quickly climbing the tree and leaping into the sky; laughing he lifted himself higher and higher, flying zigzag, doing somersaults and pirouettes of any kind, and when, finally, the power of the staff was fully activated, he landed, soon followed by tiny snowflakes.

Walking in the quiet forest the two enjoyed a few hours of tranquillity, talking of this and that, following the nocturnal animals in their wanderings to discover their habits, admiring the show of the white blanket which was slowly covering everything, exchanging knowing looks and rejoicing for each other's presence. For all the time they behaved naturally, speaking fluently and not feeling the slightest embarrassment: they knew each other too well to be caught by silly concerns, and they were now well accustomed to that kind of intimacy, much less sensual than their intercourses' one, but no less enjoyable.

The boy would have liked to extend the encounter until dawn and beyond, talking with his love, listening to his vibrating voice, playing with him in the snow and, why not?, even devising some jokes, but it was now time for both to return to work. It was for this reason that, with a sigh, he said: «It's been hours since I woke up and I don't feel tired at all: apparently I had just overslept. I don't need to rest more, so it's better for me to go back to work: the time has come to bring snow in the world. I'll start from Canada this year, okay? And you? What will you do?».

The Boogeyman petted his head and replied: «Very well, Jack. I'm getting ready for Halloween, so I thought I'll visit the United States: this celebration is much more popular there than elsewhere, the shop windows have already been set up with spider webs, ghosts and similar trifles and the children are starting to tell to each other horror stories horror before going to sleep. It's the ideal atmosphere to warm up before the great night».

«So we're parting, aren't we?» asked Frost, with a hint of regret in his voice.

The man, who had stared at him all the time, struggled to hold back a laugh, probably amused by the already nostalgic boy's attitude, then he knelt in front of him and demanded: «So, what's wrong? Are you going to leave me forever, Jack? Come on, this is not the first time we part: in the last winter we spent most of the time separated, meeting only one or two times a week, and you have never acted like this. Maybe are you melting down, ice puck?».

Not knowing how to answer the boy pursed his lips, looking away to hide the upheaval which had caught him: indeed, he didn't only feel sad for the impending separation and embarrassed for the provocation, but also, and above all, confused, unable to explain his behaviour that, in hindsight, seemed to him awfully capricious and childish. Why on heart had he turned so sad at the idea of spending few days far away from his lover? It was not the first time it happened, as the partner had reminded him, he'd known it would have happened for months now and, anyway, he was certain that Pitch would have taken every opportunity to make him a pleasant surprise, sending one of his Nightmares to escort him or showing himself up for a short and sweet greeting: there were, so, many good reasons not to worry. He was perfectly aware of this, the more he reflected with a cool head and the more he got convinced of this fact, and yet he couldn't cast the sadness out of his heart: the more he thought about it and the more the feeling intensified, becoming a burden heavier than a boulder, dragging him to the ground, overwhelming him almost to the point to make him cry.

Just when the myriad of conflicting thoughts which crowded his mind became so thick and heavy to block his breath and stiffen his muscles, bringing him to the brink of panic, the Boogeyman promptly came to his rescue: without asking for any explanation he hugged him, pulling him towards himself and pushing his chest against his back, then he moved his face next to his ear and consoled him.

«Jack, my baby, do not get sad: we're not parting forever. It was you who explained you'll take just few weeks to bring the winter in the world, so you only need to have a little patience and work well: believe me, when you'll be done, you will not even remember this waiting. The fact that we are both busy, however, doesn't prevent us from seeing each other: I'm sure we'll be able to carve out some free time to spend together. Rather, you know what? When Halloween will end I'll come to look for you and take you, so you will be able to accomplish your task without feeling alone and then immediately spend some time with me, in the place and in the way you'll feel most in that moment».

Infinitely grateful to the other for his speech Jack turned and nestled against his chest, feeling incredibly lucky to have found a partner so understanding and caring: despite the gruff and evil appearance, in fact, the man loved him from the bottom of his heart, and he would have done everything to make him happy, even openly show his affection.

Quietly moaning he perceived Pitch begin to cuddle him, scratching his nape and caressing his back with his palms, and Jack reciprocated, redrawing his jugular with a long trail of tender kisses: one for his try to defuse him, one for the time he had left him to reflect, one because he had rushed at the appropriate moment, one for the delicacy he had used, one because he had not asked him to explain his attitude, one for the sweet promises he had made to him, and so on, in a series and a list which he could potentially increase forever.

After a minute of moving cuddles Frost pulled himself together and, breathing for the last time the intense Boogeyman's scent, he broke away from him and simply said: «Thank you».

The man looked away and made a quick gesture with his hand, as if to set aside the question and avoid the embarrassment of answering, then he replayed: «Good luck, Jack, and be careful: do not push yourself too much».

The boy smiled and concluded: «Good luck to you, too, Pitch».

Leaning over his face he rested his lips on his, so gently he could still feel his warm breath tickling his skin, then he took a step back, following the line of his jaw with his fingertips; he allowed himself a moment of suspension, to gaze at the clear irises of the other in all their splendour, then he turned around and took off, flying away fast into the sky and sending him a gust of wind and snow to mess up his hair in a final farewell.

It had been three days now since that leave and Jack felt in fine form: he had visited every corner of Canada and Alaska, calling icy winds and storms and entirely covering them with snow, creating a blanket compact and about a meter thick, enjoying the children's excited screams that had rejoiced at the happy surprise, making sure that they could play for days and days before the ice melted, and he was on cloud nine. Thousands of infants believed in him and hundreds of them had seen him, pointing at him, amazed, while he flew in the sky, tiredness had not caught him even though he had worked long and without taking a break and the initial nostalgia was soon disappeared, becoming a memory as incomprehensible as far: nothing better could have worked better than all this.

Satisfied with the result he decided to change the area and take the opportunity to indulge a whim he had been thinking for months now: visiting Jamie. He ought everything to that child whose will power was unassailable, who had not only encouraged his friends to fight Pitch, but also persuaded them to believe in the Spirit of Fun, and Jack intended to give him a special treatment, at least as long as he could: plenty of snow throughout the winter and a yearly visit. Probably, to an external spectator, this would have seemed very little gratitude for all he had received from him, but the boy didn't want to overdo: Jamie had to have his own space to grow, slowly learning everything he needed to mature well, and Frost didn't want to interfere, creating a relationship that would have been as incredible as detrimental for his formation.

Evoking the faster winds he knew he headed towards his native pond, quickly reaching it, and from there he drifted to the Bennetts' home, spotting it just few minutes before its last light was turned off; silently approaching it he landed on the windowsill of the first and last room he had ever visited more than once and he softly knocked on the glass, hoping that the noise was enough loud to attract the attention of the kid he was looking for.

He had to insist a little before he received an answer, but, luckily for him, less than a minute after a tousled head appeared from the darkness, turning here and there to find the source of that annoyance; waving his right hand the boy greeted him, already excited at the thought he was going to spend some time with him, but soon he realized he was not the most enthusiastic of the two.

«Jack, Jack, it's you! You're finally back! It's been a year since I saw you the last time, where have you been?! Will I fly with you? Will you bring the snow? Huh, Jack?» exclaimed Jamie.

Pressing his finger on his own mouth Jack urged him to keep quiet, in order to prevent his cries of joy to beckon his parents, then he waited for him to open the window and whispered: «Shhh, Jamie, do not scream like that! You don't want your parents to rush here, right? They just went to bed. It's still too early to talk quietly: we have to wait for them to fall asleep, or they'll surely hear you. Listen to me: for now I'll return to the city to bring a little snow, while you'll wait for me here, leaving the window ajar, so, within half an hour, we will spend some time together. Do you like it?».

The child nodded vigorously in response, half closing the shutters and leaping on the bed, slipping under the blankets and visibly quivering with anticipation.

Satisfied with the reaction the boy jumped away and flew over the city, landing on the tallest building to be able to fully embrace it with his eyes: focusing he evoked clouds and icy winds, letting his power flow from the staff in a light beam, and in few seconds minute snowflakes began to fall from the sky. Using his best abilities Frost worked hard to make these increase in size and number, soon becoming so thick they reduced the visibility to few meters, and he made sure to cover the soil with a thin layer of ice, to let them settle immediately; as he had planned in half an hour the blanket had already achieved a considerable thickness, which would have certainly forced the town to close schools and offices, so he decided to let the snowfall continue and end by itself and walked back to Bennett family's house.

Nimbly climbing the gutter he reached the windowsill and crept through the shutters, closing them quietly behind himself in order not to be discovered, but a voice well known to him exclaimed: «Jack!?».

«Pitch, is that you!?» asked the boy, astonished.

Turning he had the confirmation of his suspicions: a gangling and dark figure silhouetted against the entrance of the room, impossible not to notice, with features absolutely unmistakable; squinting his eyes Jack managed to focus it better, identifying his lover's neckline and then his face, which had assumed an expression of pure surprise, certainly very similar to his own, but before he could even think about how to react t that unexpected visit a pillow hit Pitch right in his chest.

«Do not worry, Jack, I will defend you from the Boogeyman!» intervened Jamie, brandishing another pillow with a fighting spirit.

«No, no, wait!» stopped him the boy, trying to put together a believable excuse; «It's too dangerous: leave him to me!».

Firmly grasping the staff he moved forward, trying to look menacing and aggressive, but unfortunately he saw the Boogeyman wasn't playing along with him: instead of running away, in fact, he stood still, the irises full of wonder and confusion, ruining the concocted plan and even risking to get them caught; worried that the kid could decide to come to his rescue again Frost tried to nod at his partner, but he didn't see any change in him, so he had to get tougher: evoking his powers he lit the staff of a cold fire, then the unleashed it, aiming at his fake opponent's foot and freezing the cabinet which was behind him.

Finally the man seemed to shake himself and, with a startled cry, he backed away, dissolving himself into a steam of black sand and disappearing into the corridor; happy the boy relaxed and, turning to Jamie, he ordered him: «Please, stay in your room, do not even get out of the bed: I'll go and drive out to the Boogeyman. Wait here, I'll be back soon!».

Without even waiting for an answer he rushed out of the room, along the corridor and down the stairs, then he immediately started to look for his love: following the house's perimetry he first entered the dining room, then the kitchen, then a small anteroom, scanning every shadow to try to spot him, but he found nothing; sad he went to the living room, but before he could realize it something grabbed him by the neck and slammed him violently against the wall.

In a panic he tried to wriggle free, but the unknown being anticipated him, pinning his wrists beside his face and smashing him with his own body; in a strenuous attempt to defend himself Jack tried to bite it, but they cleverly dodged him, emitting a vibrant laugh and then pressing their lips on his.

Overwhelmed by a reassuring musky scent and by the unexpected gesture the boy immediately realized that the assailant was nobody but Pitch and he let out a sigh of relief, opening his mouth and inadvertently giving the other the opportunity to take advantage of this: pressed by his courtship he couldn't resist and moaned in that exciting stolen kiss which was becoming less and less chaste, but in the end, well aware of where he was, he decided to interrupt him and talk to him.

Turning his face with difficulty he managed to escape his curious tongue and, panting, he stammered: «Mh, Pitch, s-stop, Jamie is still awake, think about what would happen if he came here and saw us...».

«In that case he would learn some very interesting things» promptly replied the Boogeyman, licking him along the jugular.

«Pitch!» snapped Frost, without even trouble himself to specify the reasons of that reproach.

Snorting the man let him go and whispered in his ear: «You're the Guardian of Fun, but you can be really boring».

Piqued and worried the boy countered: «Pitch, are you crazy?! He's just a child, it would be a shock for him! And then, try to think how confused he would feel if he saw the Boogeyman and...».

«Jack, calm down: I was just kidding» interrupted him Pitch, winking.

Reassured by that affirmation Jack relaxed, but soon he returned to the charge and ordered him: «Pitch, you must promise me you'll never let Jamie, nor other children, see you with me».

The Boogeyman rolled his eyes, letting out an annoyed grunt and evading the question, but when he saw the other open his mouth to insist he gave up and exclaimed: «Okay, okay, I promise! Happy? Now are you going to greet me properly or not?».

Chuckling the boy replied: «What's wrong? I thought you liked to be greeted with a kiss! If you prefer to hear me speak, however, I'll do it. As I told you few days ago I've been in Canada and Alaska and I have completely covered them with snow, so I won't have to visit them at least for three weeks. I made this little detour to come and visit Jamie: I wanted to see him and give him a snowfall in advance. After that, though, I'm going to Europe: I have a lot of work to do there. I intended to stay there for five or six days and then visit you: what do you say?».

«It's a great idea, Jack: however, I just wanted another kiss» replied the man with an amused grin.

Passing his arms around his waist he pulled him close, forcing him to open a little his legs to adhere to him, then he moved his face towards his and waited patiently for him to participate when he felt like doing it; Frost, on however, didn't make him wait for long: without any hesitation he hugged him, touching his nose with his own to drown in those iridescent irises he adored, then he slid a little further down and pressed his lips on his. He stood still for a moment, enjoying that moment of suspension, then he parted his mouth to deepen the contact: sticking out his tongue he searched his one, slowly stroking it, drawing it in the sensual dance he now knew to perfection, leaving it to caress his palate and then returning immediately to it, tilting his head to reach it more easily and moaning in feeling it so warm and silky.

Not used at all to tower over his partner he sat on his lap, clinging at his shoulders to make him bend down and not to break the kiss and stroking the bare skin of his chest with his fingertips, blushing more and more: his mouth was so soft and luring, his curious hands so expert, his touch so sensual, his body so...

«Pssst, Jack! Did you drive out the Boogeyman?» whispered Jamie from the stairwell.

Frightened by that intrusion the boy startled and muffled an amazement exclamation in the kiss: he had completely forgotten about the child who was waiting for him upstairs. Oblivious to the reproach he had addressed to Pitch for his aggression he had completely let himself go, quivering at his every touch, sensing shivers of excitement crossing him for his mere proximity, feeling the desire growing rapidly in him until it had become almost an irrepressible impulse, and he was sure that, if only that fifth wheel hadn't come, it would have taken very little to him to undress and ask him satisfaction: he could already imagine himself naked, his forearms and clavicles pressed against the wall and his buttocks exposed, intent to moan loudly while the other penetrated him, shaken by his thrusts, deafened by his groans, overwhelmed by his passion just before reaching the limit.

Shaking his head he dispelled, with difficulty and reluctantly, those languid visions, trying to quell his own desires in view of the conversation he had to participate to, then he asked in a low voice: «Pitch, will we meet in Europe? Will you look for me?».

The Boogeyman chuckled when he saw him so upset, but he didn't take things too far and answered: «Yes, don't worry: I'll send a Nightmare to look for you soon. Now go to Jamie before he comes here, and compose yourself: you don't want to traumatize him by showing yourself so, how can I say?, burning, right, ardent colt?».

«You dork!» silenced him Frost.

Piqued by the provocation he walked away, arranging his hoodie and his ruffled hair; shortly after, however, he came back, stealing from his lover one last kiss as a compensation for the denied intercourse and definitely heading towards Jamie's room with a laugh.

Without hesitating even for a second Pitch dissolved himself into a stream of magic sand and followed the lover up the stairs, hiding himself in his shadow, springing from a dark corner to another and finally creeping under Jamie's bed: he had promised he wouldn't have showed up with Jack in that room, but he didn't imply he wouldn't get into it.

Wedged among forgotten toys and odds and ends he tried to settle down as best as he could, bending his legs to fit himself to the bed so short and keep his ears open to eavesdrop on the conversation: he wasn't really interested in it, but he had nothing better to do in order to kill time and, indeed, he was curious to understand why his partner seemed so interested in that child and considered him so special.

After few minutes, however, that hint of jealousy he had felt definitely disappeared: Jamie was pathetic and annoying just like any other child. He had completely monopolized the conversation, throwing himself into confused reports about his boring adventures and jumping from one topic to another, narrating with such an emphasis to shake the bed and repeating himself very often, and those occasional encouragements that Frost gave him seemed to give him an endless energy and chatter.

Fortunately, after a half an hour which had seemed a century long, the boy spoke up, thanking him for the company and the enthusiasm and telling him that was time, for them, to part.

«But Jack, there's no school tomorrow!» protested the boy.

Jack laughed in response and declared: «Even more so: certainly you don't want to stay at home and sleep while your friends are playing snowballs, do you? Come on, Jamie: it's time to rest».

Grumbling the other settled down, still trying to strike up a weak defence, but giving up almost immediately; just when the Boogeyman was certain that the boy was about to leave, however, Jamie asked in a faint voice: «Jack, can you give me a hug?».

The man didn't hear any verbal answer, but the rustled which reached his ears was eloquent enough: raising his eyes to the sky he tried to tolerate that inappropriate display of affection, refraining himself from intervening to end it, but soon he had something else to think about.

«Jack, have you changed your perfume?» suddenly asked the child.

«But what are you talking about, do I look like a person who puts on perfume!?» exclaimed Frost.

«Well, your scent is different than usual: before you smelled like snow and fresh, now you also smell like flowers, and you're warmer. You smell a bit like before and a bit like my aunt, but my Mum's sister, the youngest one, not aunt Agatha: aunt Agatha stinks».

After bursting out into a loud laughter for that final statement the boy pulled himself together and replied: «If you're so sure that I have a different scent I believe you, but I assure you it can't be mine: there is nothing different than usual in me. It would have probably permeated my clothes while I was travelling. Come on, do not brood about it too much: it's time to sleep! Try to rest: a long day of games is waiting for you. Sweet dreams, Jamie: see you on the next year».

Walking with a light step the boy walked away, saying goodbye to the kid one last time, then he left the room, going downstairs and using the back door to leave the house undisturbed.

Forced to wait until the child dozed off Pitch took advantage of that imposed break to reflect: why had the scent of Jack changed? Of course, as the attentive and possessive lover he was, he had noticed it immediately, not just that night, but even the one of three days earlier, during which Frost had slept for almost sixteen hours, and in no case he had managed to find a plausible explanation. Actually the smell was emanated directly by the boy's skin, not by his clothes, as he had supposed, and in any case the late autumn excluded the possibility he might have found an abundance of flowering meadows: except for the ones in that small basin which had shown him, in fact, the Boogeyman had not seen any coloured corolla peep through the blades of grass. Maybe the boy had found a perfume bottle and had opened it out of curiosity, accidentally wetting himself with few drops of the essence? This, however, didn't explain how it was possible that such a feminine scent had appeared only after they had made love, and not before. Maybe it was related to the fact that his powers had grown as the months had passed? If that were the case, however, why should he ever have assumed a scent so springy if he was the Spirit of Frost?

Frustrated by the fact he hadn't reached any sensible conclusion the man gave up: he had no ideas left, except for a couple even more absurd than those which he had already analysed, so it was useless to continue to mull over. Moreover, even if he had never understood the reason for this sudden change, no problem would have occurred: discovering the cause was more a whim than a real need; the important thing, as always, was that his little snowflake was happy and healthy and, with the exception of that anomalous long sleep, he had always found him full of energy: there was nothing to really worry about.

Reassured he decided to cock an ear to check if his annoying victim had dozed off, and it was with a great pleasure which he heard with he heard him letting out slow and steady breaths, clear sign that he had now fallen into a deep sleep.

Crawling out from his hiding place Pitch drew himself up to his full height, looming on the unaware child's figure and leaning on him to observe him closely; as he expected a thin ribbon of golden sand penetrated through the window's grass, aiming directly at his head and exploding into a sparkling shower, reshaping itself immediately to create the silhouettes of Jack and Jamie flying in the sky, ready to bring the winter all over the world, and only at that moment the Boogeyman decided to intervene.

«Oh, Jamie, what a moving dream: an adventure with Jack, a night spent flying with him, maybe even a lifetime spent at his side, devoted only to help him and play with him. You would like this to happen even in the reality, wouldn't you? Well, you arrived late: Jack is mine, mine and mine only, and I will never share him with anyone, not even in a dream» whispered the man with a soft voice.

Touching with his fingers the golden sand he corrupted it, making it blacker than a moonless night, then he reshaped it, transforming Frost into a magnificent Dark Prince, and putting a copy of himself beside him, adding several Pureblood and making sure that the atmosphere of the vision became increasingly grimmer, unleashing all his powers in order to crush that pathetic infant who, with an unheard of audacity, had defeated him more than a year before.

The desperate moan that Jamie emitted was music to his ears, and the temptation to torment him up to see him squirm was strong in him, but at last Pitch managed to hold himself back: if he had overdone his victim would have waken up, nullifying all his efforts, so it was better not to exploit the full potential of the magic sand, rationing it to prolong the suffering, protracting the nightmare until the morning and beyond, in order to completely disrupt the child and leave him powerless.

Satisfied with the thought he allowed himself a wicked grin, shivering at the discharge of fear which already climbed along his arms, then he turned, leaving the room without looking back to return to his work.

Focusing to gather all his powers Jack flew high in the sky, unleashing a shower of icy beams, still uncertain whether to use them to provoke a violent storm or a quiet snowfall, but in the end he opted for the latter: opening his arms he relaxed, letting the little bluish lightnings subside, then he sighed and fine snowflakes began to fall around him.

Satisfied with the result he descended, flying quietly and checking the ground: he had worked hard in those five days passed since his visit to Jamie, covering the whole Northern Europe with a compact white blanket, and the area he was studying was one of the few left. Perfectly relaxed he flew over it, proceeding calmly, allowing himself a little break to enjoy the cool breeze on which he was travelling and the beautiful unspoilt landscape which surrounded him, but suddenly, in the open, he spotted an artificial multicolour light: a particular absolutely unexpected in the middle of the uninhabited valley, a decidedly wrong note in a forest so dark.

Intrigued he approached it, passing several cars hidden under the trees and finally identifying the source of the light: a big abandoned building, probably a barn or a warehouse, from which a rhythmic music came and towards which various groups of boys dressed in a bizarre manner were converging.

Puzzled he watched them walking, half-naked despite the cold, adorned with earrings, tattoos, studs and unnatural hair colours, talking excitedly in a language he didn't know and disappearing into that strange building, and it took little to him to decide: he had never seen anything like this in his three hundred years of life and he had no intention to miss such an opportunity to discover something new and that, moreover, overwhelmingly fascinated him.

Without any hesitation he landed in a clearing, amazed to be able to hear the music despite several yards and several trees divided him from the entrance to that gathering, then he smiled and stepped forward to explore.

New drawing made by HeilyNeko! You can find it both on my tumblr and on AO3

Next chapter will be published on Friday, see you soon!

WARNING: In this period we had a lot of thunderstorms in my country and many of them lasted for long, preventing me from using both internet and my laptop and, obviously, to work on the fanfiction. This week I managed to translate all the chapter in a single day, and my friend gently checked it immediately, but maybe the next time I won't be able to do it: if I'm late, please, have a little patience, because I can't control the weather. Of course I'll always make sure to delay the update only for one or two days, and not more.


	4. Chapter 4

Thunderstorms and my friend ill... everything is working against my fanfiction! This time I translated ten pages in a day for nothing, because I had to wait XD

**WE DON'T HAVE TO BE ALONE – CHAPTER 4**

After carefully gliding above the treetops Jack landed in the middle of a clearing, sinking his feet in the thin blanket which had started to cover the ground, then he looked around to familiarize with his surroundings; the forest, in fact, was quite different from how he remembered it: the wild animals which inhabited it were gone, replaced by cars of every shape and size, the soft moss and the delicate ferns which formed the undergrowth had been crushed and turned over into clods by the tires, and the murmuring rustle of the leaves was completely muffled by thumping music's notes.

Thrilled by the atmosphere entirely new for him Frost hurried towards a small group of boys, whom he had glimpsed through the bushes, and he cautiously stayed beside them, fearing they could catch sight of him; noticing that it consisted of only three members he decided to risk, saying a brief greeting to attract their attention, but they gave no sign of having heard him and went their way; well determined to get to the bottom of it, in order to be sure they couldn't see him, he run to precede them, then he stood in front of them as to stop them, and, when he felt them pass through his body, he had the final confirmation he was invisible.

Rejoicing, perhaps for the first time in his life, at this discovery, the boy approached the small company without any fear, curiously observing the strange leather clothes which they had put on, the numerous narrow straps around the legs, hips, torso and even neck, the shoes very thick-soled they were wearing, the jewellery bristling with spikes which adorned their arms and ears: even the smallest portion of those outfits so absurd amazed him, and, albeit failing to find any logical explanation to put on clothes obviously so uncomfortable and impractical, he had to admit to himself that they were aesthetically pleasing, albeit slightly gloomy, and that he would have liked to try them on.

The detail that most fascinated him in those characters almost aliens, however, was definitely their head: the face, in fact, was covered with make up, with light tones on the skin to make it nearly cadaverous and tones decidedly darker on eyes and mouth, deftly shaded to bring out the irises and the pinched features; the hair, instead, was dyed a thousand bright colours, combined together to create rainbow strands, short on the nape and long on the top, combed to form crests and spikes that seemed to stand upright for magic in defiance of gravity.

Too curious to be able to hold himself back Jack flew, to better watch those hairstyles so showy, and he dared to evoke a slight breeze to ruffle them, but he couldn't get this satisfaction: they didn't bent an inch; perplexed he sent a second gust to touch them, but they remained perfectly still again; now become impatient he summoned winds more rapid and intense, determined to see if the hair would have resisted even to similar currents, but, as soon as he heard the boys screaming and saw them trying to protect each other, he lessened his powers: there was no need to torment innocent people just to satisfy his own silly desire.

Regretting the fact he had inadvertently been rude he made sure to protect them from the snow, opening a gap in the middle of the snowflakes which were falling more and more thicker, and, considerate as a guardian angel, he escorted them up to the abandoned building's eaves, under where other comrades were waiting for them. He winced, scared, when he saw one of them punching another one on the shoulder, seriously afraid he was about to see a fight, but the enthusiastic tone of their voices reassured him: evidently that was just their way to say hello.

Chuckling at the idea that in the world, as well as languages for him quite incomprehensible, there were also a lot of peculiar habits and customs, the boy who let the group go away and he lingered under the makeshift canopy to look closely at two posters he had spotted, hoping to be able to get some more information to understand what was going on in that place. The first one had no use for him: completely black, it had a series of white squares in the central area, some wider, some narrower, some with rounded corners, lined up to form some kind of code which was completely meaningless to him; the second one, instead, was far more explanatory: on it it dominated a human face, white as a corpse, his eyes blacks as pitch and his mouth covered with blood running down to his chin. Although the scene had a clear grisly connotation, the photographed character didn't seem to feel any emotion at all: his face was perfectly relaxed, his features weren't distorted with rage, his mouth was closed, but not firmly shut, and his glance calm to the point it looked vacant; this his tranquillity, however, appeared far more disturbing than any angry expression: the way he was staring at the viewer, with the index slightly lowering his left lower eyelid and exposing the raw flesh, didn't bode well and sent cold chills along the spine.

Moving his pupils away from the subject Frost concentrated upon other manifesto's particulars, briefly analysing the red and white background red and white and then focusing on the writing on the upper zone; recognizing one letter at time he managed to form the word "Combichrist", but he didn't read it aloud: he was not sure how he should have pronounced it, and he had no idea of what it meant.

Slightly disturbed by that vision he stepped back, hesitant about what to do, but when his eyes fell on the entrance all doubt vanished: he couldn't absolutely forfeit the opportunity to discover something new, and, moreover, if that place had really turned out to be dangerous, he had nothing to fear about, because he was invisible to all the presents.

Encouraged by this assurance he walked, lining up behind a group of young people even more eye-catching than the first, and he followed them to a sliding iron gate, which was opened up just enough to let the guests enter in single file; quivering with impatience he waited his turn, evoking a chilly breeze to make them go faster, then he crept behind them; unable to linger any longer he overtook them as they proceeded down a winding corridor, regardless of their arms, which, occasionally, passed through him, and finally he came out into an open space.

Before he could identify it or realize what was happening he heard a crash and found himself lying against the wall, in a precarious balance between a metal drum and a wooden beam, so disoriented he struggled to understand where up and down were: he didn't expect to receive a similar blow. The music, in fact, was so high it had directly hit him, like a shock wave, injuring his ears and making him startle to the point it induced him to lurch on a side; the little sense of direction that was left, then, was finally destroyed by the pulsating lights illuminating the area, which, in few and very short flashes, blinded him.

Too confused to be able to react promptly he availed himself of the keg as a support and he slowly straightened his back, leaning against the wall to prevent himself from falling; sensing that it would have taken a while to him to recover he decided to close his irises, at least to eliminate the hassle of those light rays, but with great dismay he realized that these were visible even through his shut eyelids; determined not to be disheartened by this he settled down better on his shaky legs, covering his eyes with his left hand, then he let out a sigh of relief, happy to be able to defend himself from those annoying glares.

While waiting for the spots on the retinas to fade away Jack tried to soothe the eardrum pain, focusing on the music to understand its rhythm and then intuit its cadence, but, unfortunately for him, he didn't succeed: the strident noises and the croaking voice which animated it, in fact, didn't seem to follow any scheme and took him by surprise whenever they arose.

Frustrated by the failure the boy forced himself further, and finally he managed to grasp a recurrent sound: the basses. Initially, too stunned by the noise, he hadn't even be able to notice them, but now he could hear them clearly: he perceived them resound in the ground, wincing under the feet, climbing along the legs, vibrating in the stomach, reverberating up to the skull and back again; he sensed them oscillating among the walls, rebounding between ceiling and floor, he even felt them shaking every fibre of his staff: those sound waves, in fact, seemed to permeate everything, and they also had the advantage of exerting a calming power over him.

Reassured by the discovery Frost let himself go, sinking into those vibrations until he could no longer distinguish them from the beating of his own heart or from the buzz of his own thoughts, then he dropped his left hand along his side and opened his eyes. The very first flashes dazzled him, forcing his pupils to contract until they become pinholes, but gradually he managed to get used to them, spotting at first the drum and the beam between which he had got stuck, then the ceiling and, finally, the humans present there.

Breaking away from the wall he embraced with his eyes the huge room where he was, moving the irises from a pillar to the other, chasing the coloured rays which branched out from some strange boxes, and he chuckled, amused: the pulsating lights revealed the environment only when they were on, then making it fall into the darkness when they turned off, and it seemed to Jack he was looking a quick sequence of black and white photos, where people moved jerkily from a position to another.

After shaking his head to pull himself together he focused his attention on two boys, who, a little far from him, waved on the spot, so concentrated as to seem immersed in a world of their own: following the music rhythm they moved their arms and bodies, in soft gestures and sinuous movements, animated by an inner fire which burned so intensely it made them sweat, and Frost knew instinctively that they were dancing. He couldn't fully explain to himself how he had had this intuition: since he was born in the eighteenth century he was accustomed to very different dances, much more organized and elaborated than that haphazard waving he was watching, yet he had had no hesitation in making that thought, nor a change of mind after.

Throwing a last glance at the two guys Jack firmly grasped his staff and began to walk, determined to explore the place from top to bottom: advancing along the wall he overtook several small groups, some intent to dance, others to drink, others so crowded they didn't let him catch a glimpse of what they were doing, and, in the end, he saw an isolated figure.

Intrigued he reached him, proceeding with caution, in order to prevent himself from tripping in the myriad of threads which covered the floor or striking the fragile instrumentation which thronged the corner, and he went behind him: as he expected the man gave no sign to have noticed him and he continued unabashed to move at the rhythm of the song notes, playing at the same time with a series of buttons and levers which stuck out from the table in front of him and occasionally checking a bright screen on his right.

Puzzled Frost leaned over the coloured glass, trying to decipher the list written on it, and, after some efforts, he managed to read the first words: "Blut royale". Blut... what? What meaning could that terms unknown to him ever have? Maybe was it written in a foreign language? Or maybe did he simply fail to recognize the sequence of letters?

Turning to the following writings the boy soon realized that every effort was vain: nothing was familiar to him in that script so regular, formed by words he had never heard and words he had had, but which made no sense, therefore, considered how much concentration costed him to keep his eyes peeled in that dark place and try to follow that tiny typeface, it was preferable desisting. Too stubborn to definitely give up he still lingered in that isolated emplacement, studying the unaware lone dancer's moves, staring fascinated at the pulsating lights on the thick board on which he worked, and after few minutes he solved the mystery: the list he had seen was nothing but the series of the available songs, and the man he was watching had the task to control it and choose the order in which it was played.

Satisfied by this intuition he mentally thanked Jamie, who, telling how he had learned to use the computer to create music discs, had allowed him to get to the bottom of the arcane, then he walked away, to reveal new secrets about that event he hadn't been able to classify yet.

As soon as he came out of the area invaded by cables the music suddenly increased in volume, assuming an even faster pounding rhythm, and he realized that the noise was emitted by the big black boxes arranged radially around the secluded corner; stunned by the sound waves he decided to move away from them, but after a few steps he stopped, astonished.

In front of him there were three individuals, two females and one male, clinging to each other so closely they almost looked like a unique creature: the man, in particular, was positioned behind the most petite girl, intent on urgently grinding against her butt with little courteousness and fondling her breasts; the woman, on the other hand, was placed in front of her, taken up to kiss her with such fervour not to leave her even the room to participate actively, and it took very little to her to move the hands from her hips to her groin, sliding them without any notice under the short, fluffy skirt and stealing from her lover a surprised and startled expression, half amazed and half satisfied.

Although he had grown in an era when homosexuality was not even mentioned, so great were the fear and the loathing which such unions caused, Jack had developed, over time, his own opinion in that regard, concluding that everyone should accompany themselves with whoever they desired without any problem whatsoever; about that little chaste embrace, therefore, he wasn't shocked by the fact that two girls were displaying their affection: what upset him was the fact that the participants were three, and that they were blatantly touching themselves in front of a large audience. Why were they three? Maybe did each of them love the other two? However, how was it possible to love two people at once? Perhaps the man and the woman loved the girl, but they didn't love each other? If so, how could he handle the situation, and why did he allowed them both to fondle her? But, above all, why did none of them show the slightest embarrassment to give and receive such intimate caresses in front of other people, regardless they were making a spectacle of themselves, almost smug at the idea they were reaching the satisfaction without having to waste time in looking for a more private place?

Despite the efforts Jack didn't manage to give a valid answer to any of the questions which had spontaneously arisen in his mind, and, actually, he wouldn't have been able to reach a solution even if he had thought about it for hours: as the affectionate and sincere person he was he was unable to conceive sex as a thing on its own, separate from that absolute feeling which had been bounding him to Pitch for months and months, and he would have never imagined that two or more people could meet and share experience so intimate without feeling anything for each other.

Finally able to look away from the strange trio the boy walked around, hopping among the bottles in order not to hit them, then he spotted in the distance a secluded chamber: the light which lit it up was weak, but permanent, and, albeit small, it was not crowded at all, so it seemed the perfect place to take a short break before throwing himself back into exploration.

Glad to have found a room where he could rest a little and clear his mind Frost headed towards it without hesitation, passing through the door just before it was sealed, then he crouched in a corner to see its contents. The room was old and neglected: its peeling walls had almost completely lost the plaster which covered them and the moisture stains oozing from them were so deep and wide they had cracked them, allowing mosses and lichens to take root in the concrete; the ceiling, however, was in far worse conditions: so soaked in water to drip, it seemed to stand for magic between the support beams and, in several places, it had collapsed, cluttering the floor with rotten boards and revealing the building's upper floor.

Disorderly arranged among the rubble there were crates and drums, some so consumed they crumbled under his gaze, others well preserved enough they could hold up without problems those who were using them as seats, and without wasting time Jack focused on them. As he had already noticed from the main room there were only five persons, three men and two women, dressed with clothes similar to those he had seen worn by the other guys, but with a make up so much more disturbing: the creams and the powders they had used had not been spread with care until they formed a compact layer, but they had been approximately smeared, forming clumps in some areas and leaving others bare, dripping down their cheeks and then drying up until they cracked, drawing them sloppy orbits and distorted mouths which made them look not even human.

Upset by that vision Frost left them to their intense conversation and focused his attention on a box they continuously indicated: curious he approached it, amazed to find it covered with a metal plate so clean and polished it shone, then he noticed a series of bags placed on it.

Advancing on the spongy planking he joined them to study them better, soon discovering that they were all filled with a fine, white powder, and he smiled, excited: he would have never expected to find icing sugar in a place like this! He had not seen food around, least of all cakes or generic desserts to decorate, but he didn't care: he had an uncontrollable craving for sweets, and certainly he would have not missed such an opportunity only to reflect on what was happening.

Rejoicing to see that a small amount of sweetener had been accidentally dropped on the plate Jack sank his phalange in it, determined to steal few grains at a time so as not to arouse suspicions or frighten those present, then he brought it to his mouth: with a happy expression he mentally foretasted that degustation so desired, but, as soon as he licked the fingertip, the smile disappeared from his lips.

He immediately moved away the fingers, coughing and trying to spit the dust: in his life he had never eaten a food so bitter. Although he had taken a minimum amount that sour taste had immediately invaded his palate, penetrating the flesh like a poison and shocking his papillas, and Frost had to struggle hard to regain control of himself: he found terribly difficult not continuing to grimace and wipe his tongue with the palm of his hand to remove that bad flavour.

After few minutes of vigorous rubbing he finally managed to neutralise that disgusting taste and, resigning himself to endure the sandy feeling it had left on his palate, he came back to observe the group of people, who had meanwhile settled down in a circle around the box; puzzled and worried he watched them split the pile of powder in smaller portions and spread them into strips, trying to figure out a way to alert them the sweetener had clearly got rotten, but, before he could do anything, he saw one of the women bend over and inhale it with a nostril.

Opening wide his eyes he pressed his left on his mouth, in order to prevent himself from screaming, and he helplessly saw the four other presents doing the same: what the hell had they done? Since when did people breathe the sugar? And why those five guys seemed so proud of that gesture just performed, to the point they were complimenting each other with jabs and uproarious laugh?

Too shocked to do something he stared at them while they briefly cleaned their nose with the back of their hands and pulled out the jackets lighters and some strange, irregular little cigars, and he didn't move even when the man closest to him, the only one who had used a match, threw it still on fire almost on his feet: the amazement and the dismay he felt were so great that, probably, he would have not been able to notice it even if it had burned him.

He stood there for few minutes, rubbing his forehead to try to pull himself together and give a reason to what was happening, but when the thick smoke which emanated from those fag ends reached his nostrils he woke up: he had discovered almost nothing in that place, except for strange people and even stranger customs, but he had explored and spied more than enough to understand that it was time to leave.

Forgetful of any caution he jumped in the middle of that giggly group, grabbing without any hesitation the room key, then went to the entrance, slipped it into the lock and unblocked it, out of breath from the desire to escape as soon as possible; feeling a nausea attack he turned the knob, but the door moved only a few millimetres, letting in a gust of air which, instead of giving him relief, choked him, shoving the thick, acrid smoke into his lungs and causing him a violent fit of cough; with the strength born of desperation he kicked the door, then he give it a push with his shoulder, finally managing to open it out of an inch. Panting he threw himself into the narrow passage, getting stuck almost immediately and risking to tear apart his hoodie with the wood's splinters, but it was enough to unleash his powers to freeze the fibres and compact them and, at the same time, make them sufficiently smooth to be able to slip on them and break free.

Stumbling on his feet he fell into the central room, suffering a new trauma because of the loud music and the intermittent lights, but he tried to resist: he had already made a great spectacle of himself, with the punches against the door and the frost he had evoked all of a sudden, so he absolutely had to make sure that he had not hurt anybody, nor catch their attention. Fortunately no one seemed to have seen him, but Jack preferred to recall the ice anyway: the floor was already abundantly uneven and full of rubble and garbage, and the last thing he wanted was to make it even more dangerous.

Concentrating deeply he managed to get rid of all the traces of frost in less than a minute, but the effort strained his body too much: once he had fulfilled this simple task he had to cling to his staff in order not to fall, and the notes emitted by the cases struck him again, destroying what little lucidity he had left.

Now definitely dazed he walked in a random direction, visibly staggering and without even trying to look for the exit: it was not enough in himself to be able to undertake such a challenging quest and, anyway, he had forgotten the urgent desire to escape from there.

With his mind clouded and the nausea rising he proceeded in the crowd, passing dancers solitary and in groups, teenagers full of energy or exhausted, boys and girls clinging to each other in promiscuous and indecent unions, men and women intent on exchanging cigars and bags full of powder, people drinking, anonymous figures who were advancing in the smoke and bright flashes, bodies which emerged from the dark, bestial creatures which attacked each other, and even the shape of a Nightmare majestically strutting, but he wasn't surprised: now nothing made more sense in that pit of hell, in that crucible of human degradation which he had so foolishly got into, and even if he had seen Toothiana's feathered head among all those colourful hairs he would have marvelled.

Suddenly something caught him by the arm and, turning with fatigue, Frost spotted a boy, much younger than him, who was dragging him towards himself, gesticulating and trying in vain to be heard over the music; dazed the Guardian allowed him, following with the irises his lips and letting him grab his left arm and throw it around his neck, and he didn't wander the reason of that gesture, grateful to finally have a stable support; the guy, however, didn't give him time to recover: without any hesitation he began to move, placing his palms on his hips and pushing to make him shake them, and Jack realized he was trying to teach him to dance.

Instinctively he followed him, trying to wave like he did and rejoicing for the smile he sent him when he saw him participate, but soon the nausea gripped him again, in a retching so violent to cause all his chest muscles contract; gleaning all his willpower Frost tried not to throw up, but in doing so he unwittingly drove away his new acquaintance, stepping back and getting lost in the crowd.

Weak and trembling he staggered, experiencing a debilitating feeling every time someone passed through him, and soon he stumbled and fell; gasping in pain he turned his head, struggling even just to breathe, but the only thing he could see among the bottles and the syringes was an army of boots, all blacks, all studded, all intent on beating on the floor to the music rhythm: there was no escape from that infernal reality.

Just when he was about to faint two strong arms pounced on him, hugging him and lifting him off the filthy ground; with much haste, but likewise care, he escorted him through the throng, pushing away the people and dragging him away from the pulsating lights which had already blinded him, and eventually he brought him out of the building.

Shivering for the sudden drop in temperature Jack let himself be laid on the ground and he heard a familiar voice asking him with an anxious tone: «Jack! Jack, can you hear me? My sweetie, can you look at me? How are you?».

Immediately recognizing Pitch the boy smiled, grateful to his love for the fact he had saved him from the nightmare in which he had voluntarily thrown himself, but soon he had to brought his hands to his mouth, to repress another wave of nausea.

Worried the Boogeyman demanded: «Baby, what's wrong? Do you have nausea? Did you eat something by any chance?».

Now able to see clearly again Frost stared at him and nodded weakly, praying he could hold back himself although the movement had stressed him a lot; the reaction he received, however, left him speechless.

«Jack, vomit, _now!_» ordered him the partner.

Grabbing him firmly by the shoulders he forced him to his knees, opening his legs and bringing a hand to his mouth, clearly intent to shove his fingers down his throat just to make him regurgitate. This gesture, however, was not necessary: it was enough to the boy to stop fighting in order to let himself go.

Following his muscles' movement he leaned forward and threw up, clinging desperately to his lover's forearm to ask him for help, but Pitch had already come to his aid: with the left he hold his forehead, while his right hand he kept his clothes back, making sure they couldn't be soiled and bearing with no problems all his weight; his support, however, was not only physical, but also psychological: even before he could realize it Frost found his face next to his own and he heard his beautiful voice vibrating against his ear, whispering sweet words of consolation and tender encouragements.

Perceiving a second retching coming Jack bent over again, disgusted by the situation, by the fact he was forcing his love to witness and by the sour taste of the stomach acids he was spitting, but unfortunately he couldn't help himself and had to let these flow along the throat, then dripping from his parted lips and mingling with the tears of pain he was shedding.

Trembling he remained in that position for another minute, letting the waves of nausea cross him and then decrease slowly; seeing him now calm Pitch wiped his mouth with his palm and asked him anxiously: «Enough, baby? Have you emptied your stomach? Very good, sweetie. Now I'll take you to a creek not far from here, so you can rinse your mouth, okay? You don't need to cling to me: I'll hold you firmly. Just try to keep your head up and let me know if you feel the urge to vomit again».

Without putting up the slightest resistance the boy let him pick him up and carry him, focusing on keeping his head up as the other had asked him to do, but he didn't have to resist long: after few dozen yards the Boogeyman laid him on the ground again, making him sit on a large, flat stone, then he rinsed his hands and cupped them, offering him a little water.

Touched by his loving care Frost allowed him to pour the liquid into his mouth, sliding it against the palate and turning to spit it out, then, supported by the partner, he bent over the mountain stream, waiting for it to wash his chin and lips and drinking few sips of the cold fluid.

«Jack» suddenly recalled him the man; «Jack, I know you're worn out and stressed, but I need you to answer one question: what did you eat while you were there? It was a pill, right? Was it round or square? Did it have a symbol drawn above? Did you eat one or more?».

Struggling to control his trembling lips the boy replied with difficulty: «Su... sugar...».

The Boogeyman stared at him, puzzled, but then the realization hit him and he asked: «Sugar? It was a fine white powder which looked like icing sugar, right? But it didn't taste good at all, am I wrong? You tasted it and you immediately spit it».

Jack nodded weakly, letting his head dangling from exhaustion, but the man quickly took it in his hands and, giving him a light kiss, commented: «Good boy, my baby, such a good boy: you've been so good at explaining me what you ate. Now come with me: you need to rest».

Putting an arm around the boy's shoulders and one around his waist he helped him standing up, guiding his steps up to a small mossy clearing not far away, then he sat on the ground, leaning his back against a tree trunk; Frost, exhausted, plopped down on his lap, snuggling against his chest to ask him for a hug and rejoicing of the cuddles and the kind kisses he received, and after a while he let out a sigh of relief.

«Do you feel better, Jack?» solicitously asked Pitch.

«Yes, thank you» replied the boy, closing his eyes.

Without any warning the other grabbed his chin, forcing him graciously, but firmly, to raise the irises, and he harshly ordered him: «So tell me what the hell were you doing in a place like this».

Amazed Jack stammered: «I, I do not know, I was passing by to bring the snow and saw all those lights and cars, and then the people, and they looked so strange! I went here just to check what was going on, nothing more».

«Do not try to beat about the bush, Jack!» rebuked him the Boogeyman; «You let yourself be drawn by curiosity without thinking about the consequences, and you haven't decided to leave until it was too late: you've been remiss! Learn not to nose into what doesn't concern you next time!».

Wounded by the stern reproach, come unexpectedly after many cuddles, the boy tried to defend himself: «But I did not know it was going to...».

«Do not even dare to finish the sentence!» interrupted him the man, almost growling; «That awful place was teeming with clues which should have dissuaded you from entering, from the posters outside to the music too loud, violent people, alcohol, syringes and all the disgusting things hanging there, you just needed to pay attention to only one of these to flee away screaming!».

«But no one could see me, no one could hurt me!» exclaimed Frost.

«Everyone and everything could hurt you in there!» boomed Pitch, now beside himself.

Frightened by that fit of rage the boy fell silent, waiting for the other to calm down and remain motionless, and soon he saw him relaxing; he startled when he felt the other grabbing his by the hips, but soon he realized that the partner just wanted to settle him better, so he let him move him and he sat astride his thighs, sending him a contrite look.

The Boogeyman took a deep breath, then, caressing his head, he told him: «Jack, let me explain and you'll understand everything. That gathering where you sneaked into is called "rave party": it's an illegal party, which is organized in isolated places and which can last from several hours to days. As you saw the people who participate to it do nothing but listen to loud music, dance, drink and smoke, but you missed the most important thing: in order to resist for long without collapsing they take drugs. Worldwide there are substances which have effects on the human body and mind, altering the senses, giving energy or stealing it, even causing hallucinations, and the latter are the most popular at raves. Before the festival they are synthesized and processed, producing pills or vials of liquid to inject directly into a vein, then they are marketed and assumed: it's the only way to resist three full days in such a place, without eating and drinking almost exclusively alcohol. They are dangerous substance, able to upset the mind and even kill, if taken in excessive doses: that was why I was so worried when I heard that you had eaten something. Luckily for you you only tasted cocaine: among all the drugs is one of the least hard, and it doesn't explicate its effects if it's ingested. Either way you've risked a lot, because what that guys were smoking were not simple cigarettes: in these places even the smoke can be hallucinogenic».

Aghast Jack asked: «But for what an absurd reason would a person want to harm themselves in this way? Why did these guys come from so far away to risk to die during a party so disturbing?».

The man made a wry smile and answered: «For many reasons and no one, since there is no valid reason on earth to harm ourselves: they do it to break the rules, to go wild, to test themselves, to experience new sensations, to show the others their own strength, and so on. I could continue, but, in the end, the main reason why they come here is only one: to escape from reality. All in these rave, from the pounding music to the drugs, has the sole and only purpose of detaching the participants' senses, even coming to take away from them the awareness they have a body and causing them visions of a life that seems better than the one they are experiencing».

The boy shivered with that explanation and commented: «Absurd... everything is completely absurd. It makes no sense to take refuge in visions when life goes wrong: reality doesn't change until you do something to change it, and take drugs, risking even to die, certainly doesn't help to improve it. Anyway, how did you find me? This place is full of teenagers and adults: you shouldn't be interested in neither of them».

As soon as he heard him asking that question Pitch flinched and dodged his eyes, running the irises along the horizon just to keep himself busy, and a terrible doubt occurred to Frost.

«Pitch, you... you don't usually hang out at these raves, right?» he asked, his voice trembling.

His partner didn't reply, but the silence was an answer far more eloquent than any words. Opening wide his eyes with fear the boy grabbed him by the collar and, with a tone of despair, he cried: «Are you crazy?! You give a roasting to me and then you are the first one to participate? The risks are the same for both of us! Why, why do you feel the need to escape from reality?».

The Boogeyman snatched him by the arm, trying to hold him down, then he explained: «Jack, no, stop, calm down! You didn't understand anything! I do not come to these raves to escape reality, but to use hallucinations for my benefit! Those drugs don't cause only visions, but also give the opportunity to those who take them to see spirits like us, even if they do not believe in our existence, and that, for me, is more than enough to succeed. As soon as I find a drugged person who is able to see me I walk, lure them and then unleash my Nightmares, relying on their greatest fears and absorbing all the horror they feel: it is much more easier than causing a bad dream to a child, since the mind of a drugged man has not the slightest defence, and then the terror emanated from an adult body is decidedly more fortifying than the one which comes from an infant, because, in principle, it's much more difficult to obtain. In some cases, however, it is not necessary for me to summon my powers: those substances guarantee only hallucinations, not pleasant hallucinations. Some people have frightening visions, able to make them scream for hours in a panic and disturb them in the depths, and if these are too overwhelming they can break their will, damaging their mind permanently».

Trembling Jack dared to ask: «What do you mean with "damaging their mind permanently"?».

The man stared at him with a glance so serious to look grave and he said: «It means they never come back, Jack. After few hours the drug's effects end and all the hallucinogenic substances are consumed, but the visions remains: now it's their own mind which creates them, getting trapped into a nightmare world generated by itself, victim of its own fears, fall into a vicious circle from which it can't escape. It's a fate far worse than death, because these people are no longer able to understand or take action, not even to feel sensations, but they continue to suffer. I myself feel pain in seeing them, but the fear is the purpose which I exist for, therefore I can't ignore it when someone donate it: when a man gets lost I use his terror to create a Nightmare, much more powerful than the normal ones, since it has a victim which it can continuously draw power from. Afterwards, however, I leave: I cannot stand the sight of those people, still alive, but already dead, and I cannot bear even the Purebloods born from them. Generally I leave them in the wild, allowing them to torment who they want and not forcing them to come back to fortify me: I own only a dozen of them, one more horrible than the other, and I prefer not to watch them. Now do you understand why I was so worried, Jack? It was enough just to accidentally step on a syringe to ruin your life irreparably».

The boy snuggled against his chest, silently asking for pardon for the immense folly he had done, then a doubt occurred to him and he demanded him: «Pitch, can I ask you something? Why didn't you feel sick before, although, I suppose, you have spent much more time than me there?».

Pitch gasped and he hesitantly replied: «Well, to be sincere, actually we spirits are much more resistant than the humans to any substance able to alter the senses: in some cases we have to take large amounts of them to get some effect, in others, instead, we are simply immune. At raves I've always been annoyed by the excessive volume of the music, but I never felt sick, even after hours spent breathing smokes much harder than the ones you smelled. Frankly, I never expected to see you collapsing in that way, nor, least of all, that you could feel a nausea so intense to vomit: evidently you are more sensitive than normal».

Frost was again gripped by guilt for what happened and he curled on himself, whispering in a weak voice: «Pitch, I'm sorry about it: I didn't want to feel sick in front of you and force you to assist me».

The Boogeyman grabbed him by the shoulders, forcing him to look into his eyes, then he declared: «Jack, don't say that, even as a joke. I haven't felt neither disgust nor annoyance to assist you: I'm happy to help you, and I'm going to do this every time you'll need it. You know perfectly well that you can rely on me for anything, and I want you to promise me you'll ask me for help whenever you'll be in need and that you'll inform me about your health. Do you promise? Good boy: always tell me how you feel. Now, I noticed that you don't have your staff: did you leave it out of the building or bring it in?».

Struck by that question the boy finally realized the absence of his loyal travelling companion and exclaimed: «For all the storms, I forgot it inside!».

The man smiled and reassured him: «Do not worry, Jack: I'll go and retrieve it. Wait here, okay? I'll leave here Voluptas, so you'll have company and can send it to call me if you feel sick again».

Throwing his arms around his neck Jack thanked him, then he pulled away just enough to allow him to stand up without difficulty; excited by the fact he was about to see his favourite Pureblood he waited for his partner to evoke it with a soft gesture of the forearm, then he stretched out his hands to draw it towards himself.

«Please, Jack, call me if you don't feel well» reminded him Pitch, heading for the building in ruin.

«I will, I promise!» shouted him the boy.

After seeing his silhouette disappearing into the trees he turned towards Voluptas, giving it a kiss on the tip of its sharp nose to greet it, but it surprised him: instead of keeping itself to itself, as it had done initially, or fawning on him, as it had begun to do recently, he sniffed his neck, then it trotted up alongside him and let itself drop. Bending the front legs first and then the rear it laid down beside him, leaning slightly to one side and making sure not to touch him with its hooves, then it turned his head to observe him and pressed on his sternum to make him lay against itself, eagerly licking his arms and chest like a mare would do with her colt.

Amazed by such a caring attitude Frost took a while to react, but as soon as he understood the horse's intention, he relaxed, resting his cheek just below its withers and responding to that sweet pampering with delicate caresses on its muzzle; closing his eyes he let himself go, feeling the animal starting to stroke his belly and allowing it lingering as long as it wanted on that area, and he couldn't say how much time had passed when he heard an amused voice asking: «Am I interrupting anything by any chance? Do you two lovebirds prefer to be left in peace?».

Chuckling the boy replied: «You taught it how to cuddle to perfection: now it's better than you».

«This is a challenge, and I do never back off when it comes to put myself to the test» concluded Pitch.

With a leap he pounced on him, tickling his hips until he heard him laugh out loud and then rubbing his open palms on his chest to calm the shivers, and Jack, once the hilarity subsided, enjoyed that break of sweet and double cuddles, appreciating both Pitch's soft kisses and the Pureblood's coarse ones.

After few minutes, albeit reluctantly, he pulled both away and said: «I'm sorry, but I really have to go now: this stupid detour made me lose precious time».

«You're not going anywhere, Jack: I will not let you until I'll be perfectly sure that you're fine» stated the Boogeyman.

Not surprised at all by the sentence the boy tried to reassure him: «Pitch, please: you see that I'm fine, my fainting spell was only temporary».

«And what if it was not temporary? What if within half an hour it came back, and you were alone, lost somewhere and too weak to ask for help? No, there's not a chance in the world for you to walk away from me until I'll be sure you're fine».

«So what about you accompany me? In my opinion it's the best solution: I'd be able to carry on my work and make up for lost time, you could keep an eye on me and, finally, we could spend some time together. Would you like to?» suggested Frost.

The man reflected for few seconds, perhaps worried that the trip could be too tiring, but eventually he relented and replied: «All right, Jack: actually it's a good idea. Come on, stand up and turn your back on me: I'll help you climb on Voluptas».

Happy to have convinced him to accept that solution the boy stood up, helped by his partner, he waited for Voluptas to stand up, too, and let his lover grab him by the hips; slightly bending the legs he gave a slight boost, immediately raising the left calf to stretch it over the mount's back and get into the saddle, but this immediately lurched on a side, neighing frightened and turning again to caress his belly with its muzzle.

«What happened? Did you inadvertently kicked it?» asked Pitch, puzzled.

«No» promptly answered Jack; «I didn't even touch it: as soon as it saw me stretch the legs to mount it it run away».

«We missed only a Nightmare's whims to complete the evening! Voluptas, what the hell are you doing? Come here, now!» snapped the Boogeyman.

Irritated to see that his servant continued to disobey him he stepped forward, perhaps to make it to stand motionless by force, but the boy had an epiphany and exclaimed: «No, wait: I understood what the problem is! See how it continues to stroke my belly? It's been doing this ever since you went away to retrieve my staff: I think it's convinced that my stomach hurts. Try to let me ride sidesaddle: in that position my belly is well protected from cold and blows, so it should approve».

«As if I needed the approval of a Nightmare to take a ride with you» muttered the man.

Despite the complaints he accepted the suggestion and, grabbing Frost by the hips, he placed him on the Nightmare's withers, with both legs adhering to its right side; throughout the operation the horse didn't put up any resistance, remaining motionless and even stopping to breathe, and when the boy sat it turned his muzzle to make sure he couldn't slip.

«I'll undergo to your whim just because it coincides with Jack's sake, but I will never tolerate other rebellions, stupid Nightmare!» rebuked him Pitch, waving the index in front of its nose to emphasize the reproach.

Bending down to retrieve the staff he handed it to the boy, then he carefully climbed behind him, sitting on its rear to avoid the risk of bumping him and then sliding on its back then to gain a more comfortable position; using his hands to support himself Frost sat down in his lap, slightly moving his thighs to be more comfortable and making sure not to unbalance him.

«Are you ready, Jack?» anxiously asked him the partner.

«Yes» simply replied the boy.

Snuggling better against his chest, in order to fully enjoy his warmth, he waited for the Boogeyman to hug him, then he clung to his waist and let himself be lifted into the sky, shivering with cold and excitement at the idea of the coming ride.

HeilyNeko made another beautiful fanart for this chapter, you can find it on my tumblr or on AO3

I hope you liked this chapter! Feel free to ask me whatever you want. Next chapter will be published on Friday. This week I have more free time than the last ones, but we're still having a lot of thunderstorms, so, if I'm late, forgive me and have a little patience 3


	5. Chapter 5

Publishing late because my friend didn't feel good, I hope the chapter will be worth the wait ;)

**WE DON'T HAVE TO BE ALONE – CHAPTER 5**

Immediately after spurring Voluptas to fly the Boogeyman deftly guide it among the trees, making it gain altitude and heading it away from that building where the humans continued, undisturbed, to detached themselves from reality in order to sink into an apparent better one, but actually infernal, then he turned it towards the west and left it free at full gallop. As Jack expected the horse didn't take advantage of this and it trotted at a light and steady step, never bucking or shaking its back and allowing him to remain in saddle without any effort; actually, even if he were riding a wild bull, he would have not risked: Pitch was holding him so firmly and checked if he was comfortable and protected so often that even if the boy had tried to jump into the void he would have never be able to fall.

To an external spectator such a care would have certainly seemed overblown and stifling, and sometimes it seemed a little exaggerated even to Frost, but he never complained: that was how Pitch was, naturally inclined to excess, unable to adjust himself to a middle way in any situation, and he would have never changed. His, however, was not endurance: the boy adored this overprotective Boogeyman's side, this exuberant possessiveness which led him to behave in such a caring way, because it made him feel like he was the most special being on Earth, and living a single second in this state repaid him of centuries spent in solitude, ignored and forgotten by everyone. Staying in his arms could occasionally be uncomfortable, given the lack of freedom of movement which it entailed, but his gentle caresses always had the power to relax him enough to make him not feel the need to contract a muscle, and in that moment Jack couldn't ask for more: although the nausea had left him he still perceive his stomach upset, and he had no intention of repeating the degrading experience he had had after he had been saved from the hell in which he had voluntarily thrown himself.

Trying not to think too much about what had happened, to avoid being grasped again by guilt and getting stuck, the boy concentrated on the simple inhaling and exhaling, letting his lungs being pervaded by the brisk night air and hiding, from time to time, his face against Pitch's chest, apparently to protect himself from the wind, but actually only in order to steal a little of that musky scent that he was never tired to smell.

After a whole hour of quiet aimlessly wandering Frost felt sufficiently and definitely in good health, so he gave directives to his lover, so that he could take him in the few places he had missed during his icy journey.

Fulfilling his task along with his partner was incredibly satisfying for the boy: chatting about everything and nothing after weeks spent thinking almost exclusively about his duty was a huge relief, covering with a white blanket the ground quick and easy thanks to his skills as a horseman, and listening to his petulant complaints for those few snowflakes which landed on his robe endlessly entertaining.

When the sun began to peek out over the horizon, however, Jack knew that this tender break had to come to an end: Europe had received too many candid attention from him, and it was time for him to move to Asia, leaving Pitch finally free to work in turn. The greeting they exchanged was brief, but intense: a simple kiss, passionate, but not languid, some sweet word from the boy and endless recommendations by the man.

Few seconds later Frost didn't have the heart to look any longer into his irises, which he was already missing, so he waved his arm one last time and flew away, shielding his eyes from the dawn's glare to reach the Land of the Rising Sun and praying in his heart not to take too long to whiten the last continent which was left.

Jack's pleas, unfortunately, were unheeded. The problems started straight away: the icy winds he had evoked to fly, in fact, had not been obedient as usual, but terribly rebellious and ready to take advantage of every moment of distraction to escape from his control, and despite the determination and concentration he had showed he had never been able to tame them. Continuously and capriciously tossed here and there by those currents that seemed to have disavowed their master, the boy spent whole hours to complete a journey that normally would have required few minutes, and when he reached his destination he found himself tired and exhausted, to the point he even felt the need to sleep; for a moment he seriously considered the idea to break into an empty house and take a nap, but in the end he refrained himself from giving in to that temptation: he had too much work to do to allow himself rest.

Unwillingly he climbed on top of the tallest building in the town where he had landed, raising the staff above his head to bestow his gift to the children, but with great disappointment he realized that even this one didn't react properly to the orders he was giving him: the stick, instead of lit up evenly and quickly summon tiny, iced flakes from the sky, burnt with a light intense, but pulsating and irregular, and it did nothing but randomly freeze the ground and the surrounding walls.

Piqued by his powers' umpteenth folly Frost snorted and, rolling the rod among his fingers, he observed it, sure that he would have soon found a scratch or a crack; after checking it carefully twice, however, he had to admit that it was perfectly intact, therefore, giving up to understand what the cause of these strange events was, he shook his head and tried again to activate it. This time, at last, he managed to: after few seconds the snow began to fall from the sky, white and silent as it had always been, and the move was so successful that soon he had to intervene to curb, at least a little, that dense snowfall's impetuosity.

Glad to have finally overcome his problems he let out a merry laugh, then he ran from a building to the other, chasing the white flakes which had made him sigh with fatigue, but which would have made the children sigh with wonder, and, in order to motivate himself, he mentally said: "You have to do it for them, Jack: you must do it for the kids. Just a couple of weeks of hard work and then you can rest".

Encouraged by this self exhortation the boy smiled, then he leaped into the sky, ready to begin the journey without losing heart.

As he had promised Jack had held out, he had not allowed himself neither a break nor some rest, and he hadn't let himself be stopped by any obstacle, but the eleven days after his arrival in Asia had been a living hell. The staff had acted in complete autonomy, remaining inert when he tried to activate it and suddenly blazing when he didn't need it, the winds he had summoned had been increasingly rebellious and capricious and more than once they had abandoned him, leaving him falling to the ground or slamming him against trees and buildings, and even the snowflakes, which, since he was reborn as a spirit, had been almost like brothers to him, had betrayed him, becoming more and more difficult to evoke.

Gritting his teeth the boy had tried to resist, working hard with all of himself to accomplish his task in spite of the bad luck which seemed to have fallen upon him, but to complicate the operations even more it had intervened another factor: the nausea.

Actually he hadn't expected the return of that annoying symptom: Pitch had been able to take care of him to perfection, lovingly looking after him both while he had felt sick and after, and Frost had been sure he would have not needed anything else to recover definitely, considering how much the ride had restored him. Already in the second city visited, however, he had been proved wrong: the retchings had gripped him suddenly, during a reconnaissance flight, forcing him to land in a hurry and go along with them in the first available corner, and they had left him drained both in body and spirit, letting grow again a strong guilt for what he had done, carried away by his own curiosity in such a silly way, and for having eaten, however unwittingly, a substance that could have even killed him.

Trying to stay calm he had resolved to fly at a low altitude, avoiding manoeuvres and sharp turns and paying the utmost attention to his body, which, fortunately, warned him about the incoming symptom with light stomach cramps and a dizzy head sore; thanks to these precautions he had been able to prevent dangerous accidents, but certainly not to feel better: too often he had found himself alone, in a dark and wet alley, leaning against a dirty wall in the attempt to stand up while vomiting, surrounded by refuses and seeing himself as a refuse for the conditions in which he was, and every time he had been able to recover and get out, trudging on his trembling legs, he had felt more and more weak.

The first few days he had endured those outbursts in silence, striving with all his strength in order not to give too much weight to them and not to be discouraged by them, but after a week he had started to worry: why had the nausea, instead of diminish, continued to increase, catching him more and more often and persisting even for hours? He had eaten very little drug at the rave, he was absolutely certain about this, and with no doubt he had eliminated it all as soon as he had gone out, so why did the annoying side effect continue to reappear? Maybe had the substance been absorbed immediately, getting into the blood stream before he could have got rid of it? Maybe was his immortal body not able to work it off and this continued to poison him? Maybe was it destroying him from the inside?

These and thousand other fears had tormented him, upsetting him to such an extent that he had lost all sense of direction and time as he struggled to bring the snow in that vast continent, but soon he had stopped worrying: whenever he had to throw up energies quickly abandoned him, leaving him so exhausted to prevent him even to think clearly, and he had not taken long to find himself reeling from a destination to another, his mind clouded, his mouth filled by that disgusting sour flavour that he had had to taste too many times and his cheeks wet with tears that he didn't remember he had shed.

At the expiry of the eleventh day Jack reached the eastern shores of that land that seemed to never end and he prepared himself for the crossing; he was well aware that he had left gaps behind him, hidden valleys and clearings which, given fatigue or simple distraction, he had forgotten to visit, but he didn't care: he could not go back, not with all he still had to do, and not in the condition in which he was.

Concentrating hard, in order to evoke the calmest and most regular winds he knew, the boy managed to lift himself up in the air, crossing the strait which separated him from his destination and he landed, more or less softly, on the strange archipelago that had always fascinated him: Japan. Ever since he was born as a spirit he had been adoring exploring the lush gardens which adorned it, skating on its bizarre buildings' curved roofs and messing up the women's hair, coiffed in the traditional way, which recalled past eras as the long, colourful robes they wore, but that night he didn't indulged in any of those activities: he was so debilitated that it took several minutes to him to remember those past habits, and when he managed to he didn't feel the slightest joy.

Plodding along a narrow path Frost proceeded, freezing the ground where his feet rested to prepare it, then he raised his staff and, at the third attempt, he managed to evoke the first snowflakes: he realized almost immediately that they were falling randomly, creating huge piles in some areas and leaving others untouched, but he didn't care and kept walking.

After going through the entire valley he penetrated in a big city, making sure to remain in the residential area, in order to avoid the chaos of the centre, but when the houses began to disperse and leave room for the open country, he resigned himself and got ready to re-evoke the wind: although he feared to fall he knew that marching along the entire island was impossible and senseless.

Relying again to the safer and quieter currents at his command he let them lift him and then carry him over the vast plains lit by the full moon, gliding silently over the sleeping houses and barns and following with his eyes the fresh furrows on the fields ploughed for the incoming winter.

After about ten miles the landscape changed: a high wall topped by curved tiles suddenly rose from the ground, then another, and another, introducing the boy in a lush forest, then in a well maintained garden and finally into a fortified citadel; pausing for a moment to observe the small guard towers which defended the palace and the decorated columns which supported it, Jack reflected for a moment, then he decided to land: the building, in fact, was in a position higher than the surrounding lands, therefore it would have been a great vantage point from which to unleash a storm and monitor its development.

Wearily veering he headed toward the top of the highest tower, but, due to distraction and fatigue, he made an awful error of judgement: while dodging a standard he didn't notice the spike protruding from the roof behind it, extending the corner and making it more elegant and graceful, and he hit it in full.

Since he had slightly increased the speed, in order to be sure to overcome the height difference at the first attempt, he violently smashed against it, feeling each rib of the lower cage creaking for the impact and losing his grip on the staff; awakened with a start by this unexpected clash he had enough mental alertness to cling to the obstacle which had blocked him, desperately trying to hold on, but his weak fingers slipped on the smooth tiles and soon, unable to do otherwise, he let himself fall.

The impact with the ground was, if possible, even more traumatic: incapable of using his powers the boy could neither turn nor slow down, and he crashed into the stone floor almost on his back, violently beating the right clavicle and hip; shocked to the point he couldn't even tremble he laid still, his eyes wide open and all the muscles contracted, but finally he broke into a whine, realizing only at that time he had not been breathing for a whole minute.

Starting again to inhale and exhale steadily was not easy at all for him: at the first attempts he obtained only laboured sobs, so rushed even not to leave his lungs enough time to absorb the oxygen, but when, levering on palms and feet, he managed to lie down on the side, he felt his limbs relaxing and finally he began to recover.

He remained in that position for several minutes, curled in a corner of the large central courtyard, while hot tears rolled down from his eyes, wetting his eyelashes and moistening the pave: why, why on Earth was everything going wrong? Why, after centuries and centuries of training, during which he had learned to know every aspect of his powers, did they betray him? Perhaps had the children stopped believing in him? Impossible: until a couple of weeks earlier he had felt himself strong as never before, he had clearly sensed the infants' heady energy pervading him and permeating the staff, and they couldn't have suddenly stopped dreaming, not in such a short time, not after all the snow he had given them. Maybe had the powers increased excessively? Improbable: if it had been so he would have struggled to contain them, not to evoke them, and certainly he would have not got so tired just because he had visited a continent. Perhaps was he not worthy of them any more after visiting the rave? Even this response made no sense: if bringing the winter it had been no longer his job it would certainly happened a striking event, which would have finally made him disappear from the face of the Earth.

The answer to the questions which tormented him escaped from his grasp, but he was sure about one thing: it was time to find a solution. Until that time he had always managed not to give too much weight to his weakness and all these strange events, simply thinking they were due to the season and the circumstances and stubbornly struggling to control them all, but it was no longer time to beat around the bush; up to that point he had avoided asking anyone for help, coming to the point to hide himself when he glimpsed a baby tooth fairy or a coil of golden sand, in order not to show in what conditions he was, but now he had to resign himself: trying not to to worry neither his friends, nor his lover, when it was clear that something worrying was happening, was foolish.

After wiping the tears Jack bent his legs and, pressing his palms on the ground, he tried to stand up: between a moan and a groan he finally managed to sit up, then he paused to catch his breath, while touching his chest to make sure it hadn't been hurt. As soon as he brushed his ribs, as he expected, he felt strong pangs: since he was thin and not very muscular, his flesh had cushioned the impact at all and his poor bones had suffered it in full, but, albeit aching, they didn't seem broken; counting himself lucky for that fact he carried on with the massage, stroking his stomach which, oddly and incredibly, didn't seem to have been disturbed by the violent tumble, and finally he reached the abdomen.

Feeling a lump under his fingers he immediately made sure to settle the clothes, sure that they had rolled up on themselves during the rocambolesque fall, but when he had carefully smoothed them he realized that the protuberance had not disappeared; puzzled he decided to lift the hoodie, fearing he had dragged down a piece of roof stuck into the fabric, but when he uncovered the waist he realized that it was not so.

The bulge he had perceived under his palm was part of his body: a very slight swelling, a little prominent and well harmonized with the rest of the abdomen, placed exactly in its centre; confused Jack touched it with his fingertips, feeling it well compact under them, and he stared at it: what could it be? A bump by any chance? Or, since it was on the soft flesh, a simple bruise due to the accident he had had just few minutes earlier? In that case, why had it grown so fast, and why not on the rib cage? Maybe it was due to a previous fall that, given his tiredness, he had completely forgotten? But then why, straining his eyes in the dark night, he saw it perfectly hyaline, rather than livid?

As if in answer to his questions a moonbeam peeked out through the clouds which had begun to gather in the sky, illuminating the yard and part of the arcade and fully revealing the whiteness of Frost's skin, and suddenly he remembered: the cold night of few weeks before, the tree on which he had fallen asleep, the journey on the Moon which for centuries he had appealed to in vain, the encounter with his creator, the brief chat, the turn to the worst the situation had taken, the ropes, the slaps, his clammy hands stumbling on his skin and digging into the abdomen, his disgusting breath blowing on his neck while he murmured that, now, he had another task to accomplish in the world than the simple Guardian's one, far more important, far more burdensome.

Jack stood motionless for few seconds, his eyes wide open, his mind still stunned by that sequence of images and information which had overwhelmed it; it did not take long to it to process them and understand that what, for fear and rejection, he had preferred to set aside as a dream, it was not so, and when he realized it a shocking cry echoed in those silent arcades, so steeped in despair to make the memory of the screams cried by the innocents murdered there fade.

By now more than two weeks had passed since the last time he had seen Jack, and Pitch was starting to lose his patience: where could that reckless boy be? He knew that he was busy bringing the winter in Asia, but he was starting to worry about the wait: that continent was vast, but, due to its configuration, it required little effort to Frost, since in many areas its climate was too sultry to let the snow fall, and in many other ones so cold to keep it constantly over the years. Maybe had the boy decided to give the best of himself for that season, in order to ensure a great number of children believing in him and completely recover from the upsetting experience had at the rave? It was possible and, if so, he certainly had a great idea: the Boogeyman had not seen him healthy in the morning when he had said goodbye to him, and he had refrained himself from following him and monitor him only because he was well aware that the partner would have never agreed to be escorted and looked after like an infant for just a moment of weakness he had had.

Albeit happy for the efforts Jack put in his work, and the consequent powers' increase he received in return, the man continued to hope he would have abandoned it and hurry back to him: the 30th of October was about to end and soon he should have left his lair, In order to fully exploit the most auspicious day of the year and lead the big game waiting for him.

While he stirred on the mattress and modelled a handful of magic sand above his head to kill the time, a very slight noise came to his ears, distracting him from his foolish diversions and causing him to turn: a faint rustling, as if something was dragged across the floor stone, alternated with an irregular ticking.

Stifling an exclamation of joy Pitch jumped up and ran into the hallway, too impatient to wait for the person who had so longed to join him; at the last bend he managed to restrain himself, taking a phlegmatic pace and his usual detached expression, so as not to let the other understand how much nostalgia he had felt, then he went beyond the corner and immediately froze on the spot.

His love was in pitiful conditions, to say the least: his feet were scratched and caked with mud, his clothes rumpled and torn in several places, his face dirty, his hair ruffled and full of leaves and twigs, and he clung to the staff with both hands, as if he was not able to stand by himself.

«Jack, what happened to you!?» cried the Boogeyman with a hint of panic in his voice.

Frost needed a moment to realize he had been called, raise his eyes, so reddened to show every single capillary which watered them, and focus on the figure standing in front of him, then he said: «Oh, hi, Pitch. I didn't expect to find you: I thought you were already out for Halloween. Go, do not care about me».

Shocked the man replied: «Are you crazy!? Do you think I'd have the heart to leave you alone in these conditions? Never! Come on, come with me: you are caked with mud and dust and don't want your wounds to become infected. No, do not even try to complain! I won't listen to you and, anyway, it's still too early for me to leave: Halloween will officially begin within six hours or less. May I know how you managed to end up like this?».

After making a feeble stand the boy gave up and let Pitch guide him along a secondary corridor, allowing his to pass an arm around his shoulders to support him and meekly entering in a cave; staggering he managed to reach a large sitting carved in limestone concretions, slumping against the seatback almost immediately, and only at that point he decided to explain.

«I had a lot to do lately: I visited all Asia and I've been in Japan for three days, to make sure that the snow could cover the main islands and most of the minor ones. I didn't pay much attention to my appearance, I never stopped to look my reflection or take a bath, and when I arrived near your lair I run into an adverse current that made me fall into the bushes, rather than next to the entrance: that's why I am a bit dirty».

After removing leaves and twigs from his hair and combed this as best as he could, the Boogeyman commented: «Jack, I was not talking about your appearance: you're not just dirty, you're also exhausted. I understand the enthusiasm for your new Guardian's designation and the anxiety to maintain a great number of children believing in you, but there's a limit to everything: you worked too hard and too much».

Tearing a strip from his robe he crumpled in on itself and dunk it into the crystal clear underground lake on his left, holding it for a moment in his hands to warm it up and then gently brushing it on the partner's skin to remove the mud; he repeated the process several times, washing him from head to foot and insisting on the light scratches he had, then he threw the cloth away and evoked a clean one to wipe him. Satisfied by the fact he had managed to make his lover's skin as white as snow like it had always been he rubbed his palms on his chest, to remove the topsoil and the thorns stuck in the fabric, but Jack leaped up and exclaimed: «No, no, don't worry, I'll do it by myself here! If you want to you can check my hood: I felt a sting a little while ago, so I think there's a twig in it».

Reaching over his shoulder the man examined every single hood's fold, but he found nothing; just when he was about to start to touch it and so check if there was a hidden thorn, however, the boy stopped him and said: «Well, now my clothes are clean. Do not worry about the hood: the twig must have fallen down on his own. Now, if you don't mind, I think it's better for me to sleep for a while. Do not worry, Pitch, I can get alone in our bedroom: go and do your job».

«Are you deaf or something?» immediately burst out Pitch; «I will not leave you alone in this conditions. Come on, let me help you to walk: I will lay down with you».

Frost tried again to strike up some excuses, but the Boogeyman didn't even listened to him: grabbing him by the shoulders again he led him back along the same corridor they had went through together just before and further on in the one which ended in their room, then he let him free, removing the staff from his hands and cautiously placing it against the stone wall.

As soon as he turned he saw that the boy had already curled up on the mattress and wrapped himself in a blanket, so, puzzled, he asked: «Won't you take off your clothes, Jack?».

Without turning the other replied: «Oh, no, not today, I don't really feel like doing it: I'm cold».

Sighing the man reached him, laid down next to him and asked: «Jack, is it everything alright? Are you fine?».

«Yes, yes» hastened to confirm Jack; «I'm fine, I'm just a little tired. Promise me you will not waste time being after me and go out for Halloween night: it's your day and I don't want you to lose it for a trifle».

Pitch, annoyed, replied: «Jack, cut it out: I don't care at all if today it's my night or any day, I'm not going anywhere until I'll be sure you're fine. Now lie down properly: you're curled up like a cat, if you stay in that position you will have cramps in the morning. Come on, hurry up. Jack...? Jack, can you hear me?».

Not hearing any sound in response, despite his insistent calls, the Boogeyman worried and sat up to check if his partner felt sick, but soon he realized that this had simply already fallen asleep: evidently he was so exhausted he couldn't even hold a conversation.

With a nervous sigh he bent over him, placing his palm on his forehead to measure his temperature and sliding two fingers on the carotid artery to count the throbs, but even when he watched him closely he found nothing abnormal, so he resigned himself and laid behind him. Hampered by the blanket he settled down as best as he could, trying to slide his arm under him to hug his lover's waist, but the boy, even while sleeping, reacted sharply, curling up on himself almost to the point to male his knees touch the forehead and protecting his abdomen.

Touched by the involuntary reaction the man didn't any longer and, making sure not to tickle him, simply encircled his shoulders, caressing his legs and bending his own to surround him, then he fell asleep.

Pitch awoke only several hours later, just in time for the long Halloween night's start, and, as he expected, he found Jack still asleep. After quickly checking him he gave him a fleeting kiss on the forehead, taking care to be as gentle as possible in order not to disturb him, then he stood up and got ready to go out: since his little snowflake didn't have any kind of indisposition, except for that deep tiredness which had caught him, it was better for the Boogeyman not to lose such a fortuitous opportunity to strengthen himself and, at the same time, to let his love rested in peace.

With a smooth movement of the arm he evoked Voluptas, waited for it to stretch its legs and, taking its muzzle in his hands, he whispered: «Stay here and guard him, Voluptas, and when he wakes up bring him to me: I've been waiting to greet him properly and spend some time quietly with him for weeks, so I will not wait a second longer than necessary».

The Pureblood snorted, scraping the ground with the hoof as to nod, then it went beside the bed and began to watch over Frost.

Satisfied with its reaction the man turned and walked down the hall, full of expectation for the night of big game waiting for him, but especially for the encounter that, at the end of this, he would have as a reward.

The long Halloween night which followed was, for Pitch, the best and the worst he had ever experienced. Due the accurate preparations he had made and the efforts he put in evoking and controlling his dark cohort, the expedition was by far one of the scariest and most profitable he had ever directed, but the anxiety for his little snowflake prevented him from enjoying it fully.

As long as he had been in Europe no worries had gripped him: Jack had slept for less than seven hours, it was quite normal that he still needed to rest, so the Boogeyman had patiently waited, throwing himself headlong into his work to distract himself.

When, however, he crossed the ocean to attack America, he realized that half a day had passed and he began to be assailed by doubts: why didn't his partner hasten to join him riding Voluptas? Maybe did he feel sick? Maybe had something serious happened to him? No, it was not possible: if it had been so the Pureblood would have undoubtedly hurried to warn him. And what if it was unable to do it? What if Frost had been so ill as to require constant care and the horse was forced to stay by his side? Damn, he knew he should have left him more guards! Was it better for him to send another Nightmare to check him? But, if the boy was simply asleep, he would have risked to wake him up and bother him with s pressing supervision. But then, what was the best thing to do?

These and a thousand other conflicting thoughts crowded his mind, distracting him to the point he even took the wrong direction, but in the end he decided to ignore them, restricting himself to merely watch more and more often the empty sky in search of a beloved figure which never appeared.

Now at the end of the hunt Pitch hastened to recall the most part of the dark cohort, while still leaving some beasts free to roam and feed on the latecomers' fears, then he leaped into the saddle of the first Pureblood within his arm's reach and rushed in his lair; without slowing down, nor getting off the mount, he broke into his own room in haste, only to find it in the last conditions he expected: exactly the same as when he had left.

Jack, in fact, was still curled up on the mattress, wrapped in the blanket and in the same position in which he had fallen asleep, and Voluptas was standing next to him, intent on watching over him and caress him up with its muzzle; stunned the Boogeyman asked: «Has Jack been sleeping here all the time? Hadn't anything happened?».

The stallion nodded silently, immediately returning to lick the boy's side, and the man brought his palm to his heart: on one hand he was happy to know that his partner had not had crisis or worsenings of any kind, but on the other hand he couldn't hold back himself from feeling worried to know that twenty hours hadn't been enough for him to recover from exhaustion.

Elegantly dismounting he dissolved the two present creatures, then he laid down beside Frost, enveloping him in a warm hug in the hopes of comforting him, and cuddling him gently to keep his muscles relaxed.

After about three hours of waiting he finally perceived a movement and a slight moan, so, pulling away to leave the other all the room he might need, he stared at him: he watched him stirring, curling up on himself and then stretching his limbs; with his eyes he followed his hands pushing aside the blankets, brushing the abdomen and then wrapping his waist as to mimic a hug; finally, hearing a small hiccup, he approached him and whispered: «Is it alright, sweetie?».

The boy, clearly taken by surprise, jumped away terrified, choking back a scream, then, staring at him with his irises wide open, he murmured: «You're here».

Gobsmacked the man replied: «Of course I'm here, Jack, this is my lair, my room, why shouldn't I be here? You slept for a long time, you know? Almost twenty four hours. Halloween has already passed, now I have no commitments and I can fully take care of you. How do you feel?».

Clearly upset Jack sat up with difficulty and commented: «Oh, twenty four hours? Probably I was really tired, wasn't I? Well, never mind, at least I let you work in peace. I'm fine, do not worry. Now excuse me, I must go».

Without waiting for a reply he crawled to the edge of the bed, climbing over the partner, but this grabbed him by the arm and asked: «What does it mean "I must go"? We've been waiting for this moment of peace for weeks! You brought the winter in all the continents, what else do you have to do?».

Deftly slipping away from his grip the boy tergiversated: «I have to go back to Asia, I forgot some valleys, and then it's better for me to make a reconnaissance flight: maybe in some areas the snow has already melted down».

Piqued Pitch blurted out: «There is no need to plunge the world into a new ice age: no one will die if you take a week to rest! Stop being a big head, yesterday you came here exhausted and you slept for an entire day: you cannot get back to work».

«Of course I ca...» started Frost as he stood up, but falling to the ground before he could even finish the sentence.

«What did I tell you? Look at you, you can't even stand properly!» roared the Boogeyman, finally exasperated.

Extricating himself among the sheets and the robe he managed to get off the mattress and reach his lover, but, as soon as he tried to grab him by the waist, he covered his head and screamed: «_Do not touch me!_».

At the sound of those simple words the man froze: he had never heard the boy addressing him a sentence so harsh, but, above all, with a voice so drenched in despair. Disturbed to the depths and forbidden to caress his partner to reassure him he could only step back, moving around him until he stood in front of him, then he crouched down and, knowing Jack was hiding something, he simply said: «Jack, tell me what's wrong: stop lying».

The boy remained silent for a whole minute, perfectly still except for the times he was crossed by tremors, then he slowly straightened his back and, while staying on his knees and with his head bowed, he confessed: «I'm pregnant».

Pitch mentally thanked the fright he had had just before, or certainly he would have burst out into a loud laughter: among all the possible revelations this was the most absurd, so nonsensical that, among the hypothesis he had already put forward, he had not even included it. Flaunting an amused smile he leaned toward him and reassured him: «Oh, Jack, my sweetie, do not worry: men cannot conceive. Come on, come here: give me a hug and let me check you. You must have something else».

Instead of taking refuge in his arms, like he was used to, Jack escaped his outstretched arms and, hugging his own calves, he replied: «I'm not stupid, I know that men usually don't conceive, but this time it's different».

«Jack, you don't have organs suitable for growing a baby inside of you, it is physically impossible for you to be pregnant» softly insisted the Boogeyman.

«I don't know what is physically impossible and what is not, I just know that this time is different».

«I haven't noticed any change in you, Jack: there must be a reason that leads you to believe you're expecting a baby».

«I'm just expecting, that's all».

«These are not explanations!» snapped the man, losing his patience.

With a jerk he sprang up and gave his back to his partner: he didn't like the turn the situation was taking. The question itself still seemed ridiculous, but the boy's stubborn and apparently unjustified insistence worried him more and more: why did he continue to claim he was pregnant, although he was a man and he had no explanation for an event so unnatural? Maybe had the drug eaten at the rave party damaged his brain, causing him visions of a belly that, in reality, could not exist?

«If you don't believe me you'd better go away!» shouted Frost in a venomous tone, interrupting the train of his thoughts.

Trying to stay calm Pitch replied: «I'm not going to leave you alone, and, anyway, this is my lair: I won't go».

«I do not care if this is your lair, I don't want you!» cried the boy.

«Then get out!» roared the Boogeyman, turning abruptly.

Although he believed the exasperation he felt was more than justified he repented immediately of that act: in fact, he had not only vented all his anger on the person he loved most in the world, moreover in a moment when he clearly needed help, but, not realizing that this had risen, he had struck him in the face with a backhand, as involuntary as violent.

Caught by surprise Jack merely endured, taking the blow and then falling to the ground with a slight moan; terrified he could have hurt him the man reached out his hand to him, but the boy, in a broken voice, begged him: «No, please, don't hurt them!».

Pitch immediately reassured him: «No, Jack, I didn't do it on purpose, it was an accident, you know that you would never hurt y...».

He never finished the sentence, because he suddenly realized a detail of no small importance: the boy had said "don't hurt them", not "don't hurt me". He had never felt fear for himself, but for the creature whom he claimed to expect, and the way in which he protected his abdomen, holding it with a palm and hiding it from the sight, was an evident confirmation of what he had stated.

By now the Boogeyman was so confused and troubled he didn't know what to think, so, for his sweet snowflakes' sake, he decided not to think at all: focusing he set aside every doubt, every unbelief, every psychological denial and even the disgusting feeling of power which the terror emanating from Frost gave him; when he succeeded he fall to his knees, opening his arms as if to invite the other to join him, then he whispered: «Forgive me, Jack».

The boy stared at him, trembling, his eyes wide open in an expression of pure panic, and he seemed about to run away, but at last he heaved a hiccup and, with a leap, he threw himself against his chest.

Letting out a sigh the man hugged him, not amazed to hear him burst into tears, and covering him with kisses and caresses he murmured: «Cry, my baby, cry, cry as long as you want, and not be afraid: I'm here with you, and I'll be forever».

Hearing that official permission Jack let himself go, clinging to his robe with such a despair that he risked to tear it apart and wetting it with his tears, then, between a sob and a shudder, he stammered: «It was not my fault, I didn't want to, I was sitting quietly on a tree and suddenly it happened, I had a belly and I was afraid, I tried to go away and I woke up and I thought it was all a dream, I still wanted to tell you about it but I forgot because it was that day when you found me sleeping alone in your bed, so I gave up and then I was busy and we didn't spend much time together and I didn't think about it any more, but I was so tired, Pitch, so tired, even flying was hard for me, I couldn't stand the situation any longer and eventually I saw the belly and I realized it was all true, all horribly true, and I didn't know what to do, I was so scared and I didn't know what to do...».

Hearing he was panting Pitch hugged him tightly, accepting without questioning what he had told him thanks to the relationship of trust which had developed between them, and he intervened: «Quiet, Jack, quiet, you're choking yourself. You have to relax, or you'll get hurt. Come on the bed with me: I'll help you go back to breathe normally and then you can tell me the rest».

Gently picking him up in his arms he lifted him, brought him on the bed and placed him on the mattress, and immediately the boy gave him his back, curling up on himself as to protect himself; without being offended, nor daring to force him, the Boogeyman petted him, stroking his arms and chest to help him breathe, kissing his forehead, cheek and neck to calm him and massaging his legs make his muscles relax, and eventually he achieved what he wanted: albeit with difficulty Frost stretched his limbs, turning around, and he stopped sobbing.

Taking advantage of this moment of submissiveness the man sat on his thighs, making sure not to encumber him with his weight, then he took his face in his hands and, smiling at him, he murmured: «Good boy, Jack, you've been such a good boy to relax, very good, as always. Do you feel like answering a few questions? You told me that you have seen the belly: when did you realize it? Did it happen while I was out for Halloween?».

«No, it happened three days ago» confessed the boy.

Pitch winced at that answer and exclaimed: «Three days? You spent three days alone, bearing such a burden? Jack, why did you do that? You should have come here immediately, you should have called me!».

«No, I could have never done it!» replied Jack; «I never wanted to be like this, I was ashamed even only at the idea, and I'm still ashamed. I would do anything to get rid of that belly, but I can't: I tried to wait, but nothing happened. It's still there, I know it's still there, I feel it even without checking, and, anyway, I don't want to look at it: that belly is not mine, it should not exist».

The Boogeyman felt a twinge of pain at his confession, not struggling to imagine how terrible it might have been, for his lover, to discover that his body was changing in such an uncontrollable and unexpected way, but a sentence disturbed him, so, staring intently into his eyes, he said: «Jack, look at me, look at me in the eyes: whatever happened, whatever state you're in, it's not your fault. Did you hear me, Jack? _It's not your fault_. You were the one who said it, you didn't want it, you didn't ask for a change, then you have nothing to reproach yourself for. I never want to hear you saying you're ashamed again, did you understand? You have nothing to be ashamed of. Now I need to ask you a thing: may I look at your belly? I know it annoys you, baby, but it's really important: I need to see how it looks».

The boy shuddered visibly at the request, looking away in a vain attempt to escape, but in the end, no needing to be asked twice, he rested his hands beside his face in a gesture of surrender and he nodded firmly.

Leaning on his lover the man kissed his forehead, then his nose, then his cheeks, neck and chest, trying to prepare him for what he was going to do, then, feeling him ready, he went further down; using all the possible sensitivity he slid his fingers under his shirt, lifting it with the hoodie up to the rib cage, then he looked down and immediately froze.

Frost's abdomen, which had always been so flat as to be almost concave, had a bulge, small, little pronounced, well connected to the thorax, but equally awful: that belly should have never been there. Although it was still almost imperceptible Pitch already have horror of it, and he shuddered when he saw how close it was to his cock: the association of two such different organs in the same body was the worst thing he could conceive.

Struggling not to show the upset he had felt, in order not to further trouble the other, the Boogeyman tried to observe more carefully the lump he had spotted: first using only the fingertips and then the whole palm he touched it, feeling it hard and not very elastic; placing his ear above it he checked if it emitted any sound, but he didn't hear anything; finally, at a second and more careful look, he realized that it was placed exactly halfway between the two protruding bones of the pelvis.

«So, how is it?» asked the boy, impatiently, albeit hesitantly.

The man sighed, then he explained: «It 'a protuberance very little pronounced, but hard, so it can't be a hernia. Due its compactness it might look like a cyst, but it is far too flat to be so. I know about other diseases which affect humans and which may cause a belly like that, but, you now, you are no longer a human being, so you can't have contracted their illness, and, moreover, we must also consider that the lump is placed exactly in the centre of the abdomen: a circumstance too fortuitous to be ignored. No, Jack, it's useless to deny it: it seems in all respects the starting of a pregnancy».

Two tears rolled down Jack's eyes, slipping through his hair, and Pitch, after carefully settling the shirt and the hoodie, hastened to wipe them, gently caressing the hyaline skin and whispering: «No, baby, no, do not cry. I know that the situation is not the best of all, but I'm here with you and I'll help help you to overcome it. We will solve it together, okay? I promise you I will never leave you».

The boy let out a sob, then he straightened his back and snuggled against his stomach, seeking comfort; the Boogeyman, of course, gave it to him right away, hugging him tightly and scratching his nape, but in the end he took a deep breath and said: «Jack, I want to immediately do something for you, so I won't delay, nor tergiversate: we have to go to Toothiana, and we have to go now».

For a few seconds he didn't perceive any change in the partner, and he almost believed he had accepted the suggestion without saying a word; after a while, though, he felt him stir, so he got ready to take action to keep him in place.

I received two other fanarts, as always you can find them both on AO3 and on my tumblr blog!

Next chapter will be published on Friday. I'll make sure to translate it within Monday, so I'll avoid all the thunderstorms and my friend will have four days to check it: I hope this will be enough to be in time. Feel free to leave me a comment, if you want to. Have a nice day!


	6. Chapter 6

Sorry for the late, as I wrote on tumblr my friend didn't manage to check the chapter in time. I hope the chapter will be worth the wait

**WE DON'T HAVE TO BE ALONE – CHAPTER 6**

Pitch had expected from the outset Jack would have demurred at the suggestion he had made, and he had got ready to oppose them with solid reasonings and a hug as comforting as decisive, but the reaction which followed took him completely by surprise. His lover, in fact, didn't simply protest and try to escape his grip: after few seconds of suspension, in which, probably, he had processed and fully understood the order he had just heard, he started screaming, showering him with accusations and insults and jostling with all his strength, going so far as to give him few punches.

Initially the Boogeyman tried to calm him down, uttering set phrases and stoically ignoring his blows badly struck, but when the boy reached out a hand right towards his face, sharply scratching him a cheek and missing the cornea by a whisker, he realized that this weak defence would have never been enough: albeit sorry he had to use more forceful methods and he had to do it now, for the sake of both of them.

With an agile jerk he grabbed Frost's wrists, trapping them against the mattress and forcing him to lie down, then he slightly parted his own legs, finally sitting with all his weight on his thighs and blocking his movements. The boy, of course, wasn't discouraged and continued to shout at him and order to be released, arching his back to elude his grip, but the man roared: «Jack, control yourself! You're hurting both of us!».

Hearing him bitterly reproaching him Jack froze, opening wide his irises, as if he had fully realized what he had done only in that moment; he stared at him for few seconds, not in the eyes, but few inches lower, while fear and despair flooded in his gaze; finally he relaxed every muscle, half closing his eyelids over his misted pupils which were no longer able to focus anything and shed a tear.

Now certain that the other had no longer the strength to attack him Pitch dared to free his forearms and take his face between his fingers, but the boy tonelessly murmured: «Why do you stay here with me? I've just scratched you and showered you with insults».

«And you, instead?» promptly retorted the Boogeyman; «Why are you still with me after all the times I tried to strangle you? Why did you always persist to come back even though I did nothing but insult you, why did you always be content with my cowardly silence never followed by apologies? I don't care if you tried to hurt me verbally or physically, as long as you need me I'll be here for you. Do you remember what I always say? You are mine, mine and mine only: an assertion which may seem selfish, but, actually, it means mostly that I feel responsible for you and, therefore, before claiming something for me, I have to make sure that you're fine and happy. I know that you knew that, you've always known, since the first moment, but, at least this time, I wanted to tell it to you openly, to let you be sure that you can trust me blindly. Trust me, Jack: I just want to help you».

The man struggled immensely to conclude the concise, but compelling, speech he had conceived: although he had become deeply familiar with Jack, he had not entirely overcome his shyness yet, nor, least of all, changed his nature, still bashful and not keen on such confessions about his feelings. In order not to fail in his purpose he had avoided thinking and even heaving, uttering the last words out of breath, but after few seconds of confused thoughts and a general feeling of shame, he was satisfied of his courage: the boy, in fact, seemed to appreciate the statement and, finally, to cheer a little.

After closing his eyes and starting to inhale and exhale steadily Frost asked: «Why do you want to bring me to Tooth?».

Pitch sighed softly, reassured by the calm tone with which the other had made him the question, then he answered: «Jack, can you promise me you will not try to escape? You are not comfortable in this position, and me neither: I would like to lie down next to you, but I'll do it only if you swear you won't take advantage of this freedom».

Without the slightest hesitation the boy nodded and the Boogeyman stepped back, getting up from his thighs which he feared he had almost crushed and finally lying down beside him; after settling down he pulled him closer, bringing his left leg on his own waist and allowing him to nestle against his chest, then he explained: «Is it better like this, Jack? Do you feel more comfortable? Very well. As I tried to explain before I just want to help you, so my suggestion was well pondered and motivated by good reasons. The first thing we need to do is trying to understand how it is possible that you've conceived: it's true, we are spirits and therefore we are not subjected to human natural laws, but even among the immortal creatures a male pregnancy is not normal. To be sincere I've never heard about such an event in my life, and you've not been able to give me much information about it, apart from a confused narration of the dream you had: tell me, Jack, is there something else you should say? Some details which, in a hurry, you missed? Do you want to describe it again and more slowly and quietly?».

Jack winced at that question, moving slightly away from the partner and clasping his arms around his own chest, then he murmured: «No. No, there are no other details: it was a very confused dream, telling it to you again would be senseless, I won't say anything more than I already did».

The man was not surprised by his scared reaction, sure that remembering that upsetting dream again would have been almost a shock for the boy, and he didn't insist further; after thoughtfully stroking his head and addressing him a tender smile he said: «Okay, Jack, that's fine, but you understand this is not much to work with, don't you? We need more information, additional details, news and tales about anything similar ever happened on this earth or elsewhere, and who else should we turn to rather than the Guardian of Memory? Toothiana knows down pat every event after her birth, and, although she has never openly declared it, she has a huge library filled with tomes much older than me: in her Palace is contained the World's history, included its early days' nebulous and uncertain one, and I'm sure that, somewhere, lies the solution to our problem. In addition to this you also have to consider that Toothiana, after all, is a woman: even if she never had children she's undoubtedly more accustomed to a pregnancy than us two. I'm sure she'll manage with more certainty and ease to guess if you are actually pregnant, and, if not, we could leaf through some books searching this topic: in one way or another we will make you feel better and, who knows?, maybe we could even find that, actually, both the belly and the sickness are caused by something else and laugh at the unnecessary fear which grasped us. Anyway, don't worry, baby: we will solve everything, and soon this nightmare will be just a memory».

Frost, who had begun to tremble when he had heard Toothiana's name, let go a hiccup and confessed: «But I don't want her to know... I don't want anyone to see me in this condition».

Pitch sighed and said: «I understand, Jack, and I assure you that, if only I could, I would not involve anyone except of us, but we can't do otherwise: I need to consult Toothiana's library in order to understand how to help you, and I can't take years to browse all the books before finding the right one. I have to explain what the problem is, to let her indicate which are the most suitable tomes to be consulted, and, anyway, the fact remains that I need a second and more expert opinion about your condition. Come on, sweetie, don't lose heart: you know how discreet Toothiana is».

At that statement the boy let out a muffled, a first, little hint of laughter which, albeit not lighting up his eyes, finally bent his lips into a shy smile, and the Boogeyman rejoiced at the sight: the sudden and unnatural change had understandably upset his sweet snowflake, but, at least, it had not taken away all the joy which characterized him.

Laughing in turn he clarified: «Well, actually the words "Toothiana" and "discrete" sound very ridiculous when juxtaposed: I think I've never met in my life a creature more exuberant than her! Seriously, you know what I meant: she's close to us and especially to you, she always listens to us and gives us advices and, above all, although she often knew much more than we told her, she has never revealed anything to anyone. She's the Guardian of Memory and she knows how to treasure it: unless she's asked to do otherwise she keeps all the secrets for herself. I am sure that, if you demand her not to spread the fact, she will keep her mouth shut».

Still uncertain Jack let out a sigh, looking down as if to escape from that conversation, then snuggled against the other's chest and whispered: «I don't want to anyway».

The man was not surprised by his partner's stubbornness, because, although it could look childish, his was a perfectly normal reaction to this absurd situation, and for this reason he decided not to insist further: his lover was not in a condition to accept consciously the suggestion. It would have made no sense trying to persuade him with words, explaining fully and repeatedly why it was necessary to involve Toothiana, trying to convince him and risking to make the conversation degenerate into an argument: the only important thing was going to the Teeth's Palace, and doing it as soon as possible.

Sure he had chosen the best course of action Pitch rubbed his partner's shoulder, looked him in the eyes and said: «Come on, Jack, the sooner we move, the sooner we will get rid of this problem».

Frost sniffled up and didn't answer, and the Boogeyman decided to take his silence as a "yes"; kneeling at first he helped him to sit up, then to stand up, and finally he evoked Voluptas and got ready to mount it. The boy, however, moved away from the beast, back to the bed, and, grabbing the blanket, he asked: «Can I bring it? Lately I feel cold when I fly».

Remembering well how Jack remained groggy because of excessive cold the man replied: «Of course, Jack. Rather, let me weave a longer and warmer cloth: this one is too thin to resist to the wind».

After evoking a robe identical to the one he was wearing he cut off the sleeves, sewed up the two holes left, slightly widened the form and added a large hood, then he concentrated, calling new black sand to thicken the fabric's texture and modelling with his fingers two thin strips to close it; satisfied with the result he draped the cloak over the boy's shoulders, tied it around his neck and covered his head, then he grabbed him by the hips and sat him sidesaddle on Voluptas' withers. During the whole operation Frost didn't show the slightest involvement, letting him shift him like a puppet and always remaining in the position where he was left, as if he had neither the strength nor the desire to move independently, and Pitch had a heart pang seeing his misted eyes constantly lowered and his forlorn expression: the terrible discovery seemed to have taken away to his little snowflake even the will to live.

Trying to hide his pain, to avoid increasing his partner's, the Boogeyman flashed a friendly smile and handed the staff, patiently waiting for the other to grab it; when he saw him clasp his left hand on the wood he got on the steed, pulled the boy on his thighs and took care to tuck the fabric as best as he could, so that he wouldn't be hit by the wind, nor disturbed by pesky draughts; finally, certain that every preparation had already been completed, he said: «Well, Jack, here we are. You won't need to cling to me, I'll take care to hold you, so just keep the cloak closed. Are you ready?».

When he received a weak positive response he clung to Voluptas' mane, then he spurred it into the trot, entering the corridor and reflecting what access tunnel was more convenient to use.

After an hour of travel through mountains, passes and narrow valleys Pitch guided Voluptas along a ledge and, when it ended, he finally came out into Toothiana's realm. Unlike all the other times he had visited it he didn't stop to look at it, neither to locate hiding places and shadowy areas useful for his dark work, as he had done in the past, nor to get lost into the tropical forest's wonderful colours which bloomed there, as, instead, he had learned to do in the last few months: he only paused for few moments, just to shield himself from the sun's sudden glare and pinpoint the golden Palace's elaborate structures, then he spurred the beast, so that they could reach their destination with a steady, but fast, pace.

Reassured by the horse's docility he dropped the reins, to hug Jack with both arms and protect him from the noisy and indiscreet tooth fairies who, for sure, would have rushed towards them, but it wasn't necessary: as soon as they caught sight of them they began to chirp thickly, but they didn't come to disturb them, rather moving away from their trajectory in order not slow them down.

Unable to say with certainty if they did so for their diligence in carrying out their task or for their intuition the Boogeyman didn't waste time time and took advantage of the space left for him to advance, heading towards a wide platform and tightening his legs around the Nightmare's sides to hold himself easily. The Pureblood, for its part, did its best to spare its riders dangerous jerks: exploiting the calm currents which blew in that area it gradually slowed down, gliding towards the dais with a large curve, then it landed softly, bending the legs to cushion the impact and walking for few more steps before stopping completely.

As the beast turned its nose to sniff the boy a loud voice exclaimed: «Oh, boys, what a pleasant surprise! It's been almost a month and a half when I saw you last time, I was almost starting to worry! Have you... Jack, are you alright?».

Not surprised at all by the sudden change of tone Pitch dismounted and answered: «No, unfortunately he's not feeling good. Do you have a quiet place where he could rest? I'd like him to lie down: I don't want him to get too tired».

Without hesitating or indulging in her own curiosity Toothiana replied: «Sure, I see by myself that he needs rest. He could lie down on my bed: it's soft, big and, although it's near here, well protected from my fairies' traffic and noise».

As he grabbed his partner by the hips and set him down on the ground the Boogeyman whispered: «Do you want to rest on Toothiana's bed, Jack?».

The other nodded weakly, without staring any of the two interlocutors in the eyes, and the fairy encouraged him: «Don't worry, Jack, it's not far from here: you just have to take the flight, climb about thirty steps and you'll immediately arrive in my room. Come on, I'll take you there».

Alighting on the ground the woman tried to take him by the hand and escort him, but Frost stepped back, frightened, and the man, in the attempt to cover up his act, hastened to put an arm around his shoulders, pulling him next to his imposing figure and protecting him.

Toothiana, as the good observer she was, didn't let the clumsy move escape her notice, but she didn't open her mouth, nor tried to insist further; soaring again she preceded the two lovers, leaving them every room to advance, and she patiently waited for them at every turn, never complaining about the frequent and duration pauses she had to do: the boy, in fact, put a foot in front of the other very slowly, heavily leaning on his staff and often staggering to the point he risked to fall, but he never asked for help and, moreover, he clung to his his considerate assistant as little as possible.

After five, endless minutes the trio reached the top of the stairs, accessing a large and gracious room, and Pitch took advantage of his partner's tiredness to admire it with his eyes wide open: he had never found it during his past spying expeditions, and he would have never expected that, in a kingdom so chaotic and noisy, there could be a place so peaceful and quiet.

The room, in fact, was inside one of the numerous elongated structures within which the caskets were kept, but, thanks to the high position and the prowess with which it had been embedded in it, it didn't allow any sound penetrate, with the exception of a feeble and relaxing background noise and the swishing breeze's rustling. Skillfully carved in the metal and the wood it was adorned, on every surface, by the same, minute tesseras which decorated all the buildings, painted in different colours and placed side by side so as to create an elaborate abstract mosaic, darker and more relaxing on the floor and brighter and more cheerful on the low ceiling. The impressive pointed roofing, in which, probably, were stored ancient teeth which hadn't been touched for years, declined along the circular perimeter, splitting into dozens of thin, golden branches which supported it as columns and which resembled so much the veinings of the small fairies' transparent wings, while in the central area it rose slightly, forming a sort of vault below which the mistress of the house's bed was.

Pushing aside the canopy's transparent veils, all hanged to a single ring, Toothiana revealed a round mattress and she hastened to plump up and rearrange the numerous pillows, round, too, so that the guest could lie against them; Jack, however, completely ignored that loving care, dropping the staff on the ground and crouching straight on the sheets.

Assuming a grieved expression the woman tried to stretch an arm toward the boy, perhaps to make him settle in a better position, or perhaps simply to encourage him with her mere presence, but Pitch grabbed her by the wrist and, controlling with difficulty his cracked voice, he whispered: «No, he doesn't want. I need to talk to you in private».

Toothiana turned to look at him, staring intently into his eyes, but she didn't utter a word; after few seconds she nodded silently and, casting a last glance at Frost, she took the man by the hand, leading him along with her.

The Boogeyman never looked back at his lover's huddled figure, well aware that, if he had glimpsed it, he would have never had the heart to go away leaving him alone, and he sheepishly let himself be guided by the mistress of the house; following her he reached the other side of the room, took a second flight of stairs that initially he hadn't noticed and went spiralling along the outer wall of the structure, entering a small terrace shaded by a slender gazebo and trees which, almost by magic, clung to the promontory which surrounded the place on two sides.

«Come on, Pitch, let's sit down, so you can tell me everything calmly» encouraged him the fairy, pointing to a table in wrought iron.

Lengthening his stride the man take the seat on the first available chair, approaching the flat surface and resting his forearms on it, then he sighed and said: «I'll be honest, I have not the faintest idea about how to broach you these news and, moreover, I don't even have time to do it, so I'll tell you immediately what's going on: Jack is probably expecting a baby».

«What!?» exclaimed the woman.

«You heard me».

At that confirmation Toothiana opened wide her eyes, hovering still on the stool which, for surprise, she had dropped, then she picked it up, sat down and commented: «I'm pretty sure that you know that only women can get pregnant, therefore I think you'll have good reasons to believe what you just said: explain them to me».

Pitch nodded, then answered: «I was the first who was surprised when Jack gave me the news, and the first who couldn't believe them, but I cannot deny that many disturbing facts happened and that there are several clues which support his words. He had a dream about it, he has been tired and detached for several weeks, and then he has little bump, really, I don't know what to think, it seems impossible, yet it's the only explanation which I can...».

«Pitch, stop, stop» interrupted him the fairy; «I'm not understanding anything at all: you have to explain everything thoroughly and calmly, trying to refer all that you know or that you noticed, and above all you have to start from the beginning and proceed in order. What was the origin of all, the first strange event? The dream, maybe?».

«Yes, it seems so» began the Boogeyman; «Until the end of September everything was alright: Jack and I spent some time together and I didn't notice any kind of change or indisposition in him, so I suppose that, at that time, nothing had happened yet. In early October we separated, in order to accomplish more actively our task, and during one of his trips Jack had a very strange vision: as he said he was on a tree and suddenly something happened, he found himself elsewhere and already with a big belly. In a panic he tried to escape, but he simply woke up, so he thought it had all been a bad dream and didn't give it any weight. It seems he wanted to talk about it anyway, but, since we didn't meet immediately, it slipped his mind and the next day he forgot to tell me. We slept together and, oddly enough, Jack rested for sixteen hours straight, struggling to wake up and clearly showing he was still tired. Then...».

«Before the "then" there's the "before", Pitch» intervened the woman; «I asked you to tell me everything in detail, and you're skipping an important part. Do not have that confused expression, you know you didn't tell me you made love».

Wincing at the placid tranquillity with which the interlocutor had presented such an intimate topic the man exclaimed: «That's none of your business! First of all you cannot know if it happened, and, secondly, the fact has nothing to do with the topic we are discussing about».

«First of all my women's intuition is never wrong and, in anyway, both you and Jack are hopeless when it comes to hide your intimate affairs, secondly, as far as I'm aware, usually children are conceived in that way» retorted Toothiana.

Pitch froze, unable to respond in kind, embarrassed by the ease with which the other was always able to guess what he did with Jack and suddenly struck by a thought to which, until now, he had never made room: the conception. He had never thought about how this could have happened, if by magic or by pure and simple insemination, and he had always thought that the creature the boy was probably carrying had been sprung out of nowhere, anyone's child destinate to belong to anyone: and if, instead, as the fairy had implicitly suggested, it were his? If it were his and Frost's descendant, born from the combination of their genes and their essences, just like any normal baby?

Almost without realizing it the Boogeyman brought a hand to his chest, feeling a strange warmth pervading his limbs and a sudden pang in his heart at the idea of what he had planned to do, but soon every feeling vanished: that was not the truth, but only a mere supposition, and, anyway, even if, in the end, it had turned out to be true, nothing changed. It didn't matter if that being which he knew little or nothing about were his descendant or not: the boy had never wanted it, he suffered for its presence and considered it only as a problem, therefore the man didn't want it, suffered for its presence and would have regarded it as a problem, and he would have worked hard in any way to solve it.

«Pitch» called him the woman, casually intervening at the very end of his reflections and definitely closing them; «I'm not asking you to tell me even that event for morbid curiosity. Have I ever demanded you anything about it? Have I ever made intrusive questions? Your intimate moments are yours and yours only, I would never dare to pry into them, neither peeking at you, nor asking for information, but this time it's different: it's extremely important that you tell me about it, explaining every detail. I do not need you to describe everything, of course, but I need to know if something out of the ordinary happened, something that, in hindsight, could be due to the pregnancy we are discussing about. Think well, take all the time you need, speak calmly and pause whenever you wish, but try to be strong and tell me everything: it's necessary. See it it this way: the more information you'll give me, the fewer questions I'll have to ask Jack later. Spare him the trouble and the embarrassment of answering: he's already worn out, both physically and psychologically, and an interrogation would only make him suffer».

In that sentence Pitch gasped, shuddering at the thought of the pain and shame that his sweet snowflake would have felt if he had been forced to confess even their intercourse, and he got convinced: although he continued to consider the question extremely intrusive he had to admit that Toothiana had supported it with valid reasons and that a thorough reflection on what had happened could reveal important clues.

Letting out a long sigh the Boogeyman heavily fell back against the backrest, raised his irises to follow a frond's gentle swing and then explained: «It was an October night particularly clear and warm, absolutely perfect for a ride, and I was exploiting it to scare as many children as possible to prepare the ground for Halloween. After few hours of hard work, however, I started to feel tired and nostalgic of Jack, so I decided to release a dozen Nightmares and go back into my lair. I prayed with all my might to find him there, and so he was: he was on my bed, naked and asleep. I've always found him very attractive, but at that moment it seemed to me absolutely irresistible: it was enough for me to simply look at him, and I felt all the tiredness disappear and the desire to be with him growing more and more. Trying not to disturb him I approached him, courted him a little, and Jack, who in the meantime had woken up, showed to appreciate what I was doing, so I continued and then I got ready to go further. Immediately before I succeeded to, however, Jack suddenly changed his attitude and stopped me: a second before he seemed perfectly consenting, and a second later completely in a panic. I was really surprised, but of course I gave up and tried to reassure him; feeling guilty Jack told me he didn't know why he had stopped me, and after a short reflection, he asked me to go on, but gently. I cannot tell you why, and I think he couldn't, too: he has always enjoyed passionately intercourses, he has never complained about anything and, on the contrary, he had never hesitated to make explicit requests and actively participate».

«Yes, I know you devour each other when you make love» commented the fairy with a sly smile.

Feeling the embarrassment, already extremely high, rise to unmanageable levels at that sentence, the man slammed his fist on the table, causing it to vibrate so hard it almost jumped, and he roared: «Another comment like that and you'll regret to be born!».

Not frightened at all by the threat the woman laughed, then she replied: «Oh, come on, don't be touchy: I was just trying to play down! You stiffened like a statue when you started to speak, and you uttered the last sentences in fits and starts, without even catching breath: you'll feel sick if you continue like this. Try to stay relaxed, okay? Remember that we're doing this only to look for clues to help Jack. Either way, don't you think you were too amazed by his request? It's not difficult to understand that Jack is a passionate boy, but it's also obvious he's really sweet: perhaps, at that moment, he just wanted you to show him tenderness and this has nothing to do with it the rest».

«No, I assure you that it wasn't normal» countered Pitch; «Obviously there have been occasions in which he only desired tenderness, but everything had gone in a completely different way: he has been sweet right from the start, he's touched me only to cuddle me and he's been very submissive. That night, instead, he behaved in a very passionate way, as if impatient to go beyond, but when we got to the point he changed suddenly and I clearly perceived the terror which gripped him. He was afraid, Toothiana, scared by me as never before, and I felt like a monster».

«Don't feel like a monster, Pitch: you're not like that and you've never been».

Not reassured at all by that affirmation the Boogeyman turned his head, trying to dispel the memory of the horrendous feeling he had experienced, then he went on: «That was not the only strange event: it's true, I protracted the foreplays a lot, but joining with him was too easy and pain-free, his body's temperature, especially the inner one, was much higher than usual, and he fell asleep as soon as we were done. There is also another detail, but there's no need to report it: it's enough to say that it was not normal and that pregnancy would be a good explanation».

He didn't regret the rushed and almost annoyed tone with which he uttered the last words, nor the abrupt way in which he finally ended the speech: reflecting on the intercourse had helped him to notice details which he had previously given very little value to, but he had found hard facing it. He had encountered few difficulties in speaking about himself, trying to appeal on his own pride and on the pleasure he felt in flaunting himself and boasting about his performance in order to report everything, but he had hated having to talk about Jack: he seemed to him he had violated him by revealing their intimate secrets, and, if he had been able to finish the story, it had been only because, torn between jealousy and guilt, he had managed not to be overwhelmed by either of them.

Struck by a sudden recollection he hastened to add: «Oh, I almost forgot: Jack's scent changed during the intercourse. He usually smells of wind and snow, but in the end I felt a very intense scent of flowers. It faded within few minutes and the next morning it was basically gone, but it didn't take long to reappear and now it's clearly perceivable».

«Yes, I smelled it immediately when Jack passed next to me to lie down on the bed» confirmed Toothiana.

Taking her chin between thumb and forefinger she pondered for few seconds, then she commented: «They are all strange signs that Jack has undergone a change, but they're pretty general: they could be caused by an intensification of his powers, or the winter season coming. Let's move on: did you notice any specific symptom of pregnancy?».

Caught off guard the man stammered: «Oh, well, he... already has a little bump and he told me he has felt very tired in the latest weeks...».

«Let's momentarily leave aside the bump» interrupted him the fairy; «It's been only a month after the supposed conception, so it's very unlikely it could be caused by that, but I promise I will observe it. The tiredness, instead, is already much more significant. Anything else?».

More and more confused Pitch clasped his hands together and tried: «Uhm... something else...?».

The woman widened her eyes and exclaimed: «Pitch, don't you know the symptoms of pregnancy!? And to think you had... no, nothing. I'm sure that, if you thought a little, you could remember them, but I see no reason to put you to the test. Has Jack ever had nausea? Sudden mood swings? Overly emotional reactions? Dizziness? Cravings? Specifically sexual cravings? Swelling or heaviness in the legs?».

Overwhelmed by that sequence of questions the Boogeyman struggled to grasp them all, but eventually he managed to say: «Well, the overly emotional reactions started immediately: Jack has always showed himself very excited to see me, and this is normal, but he almost cried when we had to separate, and this happened both at the beginning of October and both in its half, when we met a second time. The mood swings, instead, appeared, but only this morning, when he confessed me everything, so I cannot tell if they were due to the pent anxiety or to this supposed pregnancy. He never expressed any special wish, so I don't know if he ever had cravings, but he surely had the specific ones: when we were at Jamie's house he practically jumped on me: if only that stupid child hadn't interrupted us he wouldn't have taken long to go beyond».

«Jamie's house!? What were you doing there together?» suspiciously asked Toothiana.

«Do not think ill!» immediately broke her off the man; «It was just a fluke: I had gone there to work Jack to visit him and, by sheer coincidence, we walked into his room at the same time. Stop looking at me like that, we didn't do anything in his presence and we fake we were enemies to keep our roles well defined and separated. Returning to our problem, he felt dizzy many times, he had no swelling in the legs, but, judging by the way he walks, I would say he feels heaviness in them, and about the nausea... he had it once, but you he went into a hellhole full of loud music and pulsating lights, so the cause might be the unhealthy surrounding».

Leaning back against the backrest Pitch sighed and he called himself a fool: shocked by the news he hadn't thought at all about verify it by checking if the usual symptoms of pregnancy had arisen. In hindsight it was not such a serious mistake: since he had no experience in that field he was aware of less than half of the ones mentioned by the fairy, and he was also convinced that some of them were pure legend, but the idea that he hadn't had the situation under control, and that he hadn't it even in this moment, was unbearable for him.

«Needless to say, both of you have an innate ability to get into trouble, right? Well, Pitch, I think we talked enough: if you have nothing to add we can get down, so I'll be able to check Jack, make him few questions and understand, finally, if he's really pregnant or not» concluded the woman.

Without even nodding the Boogeyman stood up and, neatly putting back the chair, he headed straight for the stairs, in order to precede his interlocutor and prepare his lover for the visit; hurriedly going down the steps he reached the lower floor, walked around the bed and, after clearing his throat, he sat next to the boy.

This, who in the meantime had taken off his cloak, didn't move and simply murmured: «You've spoken for a long time».

«Yes, Jack, we had so much to talk about. Now Toothiana would need to ask you some questions: do you feel like answering?» thoughtfully asked the man.

The boy didn't open his mouth, then Toothiana came and, kneeling on the mattress, she demanded: «Jack, did you have bout of nausea in the past month by any chance?».

«Yes» asserted with decision Frost; «I've had many, so many, too many: the last week I almost didn't have time to recover from one that another began. I threw up several times, I felt weaker and weaker, I always had headaches and pain in the legs and the feet and my stupid staff did nothing but throw a tantrum, and then I also felt dizzy and found hard to fly, and countless other annoying things that would take me a lifetime to tell».

Assuming a pained expression the fairy whispered: «Jack, Pitch told me that you have a little bump: may I check it?».

«_No!_» suddenly snapped the boy, making startle with fright both his lover and his friend; «There's nothing to see, it's just a stupid belly with a stupid baby inside that I never wanted to have! Why the hell are you so interested in looking at it? It's horrible and that's all, I'm disgusted by it and I won't show it to anyone! Do you need to be sure if I'm really pregnant? Is it such a great effort so believe me when I speak? I'm not telling lies, I know what I dreamed and that I'm expecting a baby, so stop wasting time discussing about silly things and looking at me! If Tooth doesn't know what to do I want to go into her library and look for a solution to this damn problem, and I want to do it now!».

Although Pitch felt his blood freeze in his veins in seeing such a sudden aggressiveness, the woman seemed not to give much weight to it and, in a serious tone, she explained: «No, Jack, I believe you: I wanted to see the belly just to understand what its state is and what it looks like, because it's not normal at all it already started to grow, but if you don't feel like doing it now I will check it later. Speaking about dreams, instead, don't you have anything else to tell me? Pitch reported me a story extremely short and confused».

Jack shuddered visibly at the request, curling up even more than he already was on himself, and then he stammered: «No, I have nothing to tell: it was a hazy dream, which I understood little or nothing about».

Toothiana frowned and, going closer to his face, she insisted: «Jack, are you completely sure? Wasn't there a person with you?»

«I said no» spelled out with a venomous tone the boy, grinding his teeth, but looking elsewhere; «Are we done with the questions? Can we finally look for information?».

The fairy stood there, staring at him, for a long time, turning her expression into a suspicious and, at the same time, worried one, but eventually she shook her head and concluded: «Alright. Unfortunately I never heard about a male pregnancy, so I cannot help immediately, but, as suggested by Jack, we can check my library: I have several ancient tomes which could turn out to be useful. I will send here Baby Tooth to lead you up to the Palace's wing where it is; in the meantime, I'll precede you and start to select the most interesting volumes».

After that statement she jumped down the bed and, using the back entrance of the room, she flew away, disappearing quickly from view and leaving the two lovers alone.

Whole hours had passed since the trio had entered the library, going through the tall, narrow corridors to get to the cave where, on rough shelves carved directly into the stone, the most ancient tomes were stored. Exploiting the light of many candles they had begun to consult them, each on their own, but, despite the pile of books had considerably decreased, they still hadn't achieved any result: in all the stories they had analysed they had not only found no male pregnancies, but those few conceptions they alluded to were barely mentioned and soon dismissed in few lines.

Closing with a snort the eighth book he had examined Pitch looked up and saw Jack still bent over the first he had taken, intent to hold his head with both hands and struggle with all his might in order not to close his eyes.

Touched by his perseverance the Boogeyman whispered: «Jack, you've been really good to help, but now you're exhausted: it's not necessary for you to strive so much, take a break to rest».

The interlocutor sighed and, in a cracked voice, he commented: «But really, look, you've already read eight books, Tooth six and I barely arrived halfway through the first! I cannot leave now, at least let him finish this».

«Jack, do not make comparisons: everyone takes their own time to read, and there's no need to rush» reassured him Toothiana.

«Of course there's need to rush, I cannot take years to find the solution!» snapped the boy.

Pulling his chair towards his partner's the Boogeyman put an arm around his shoulders and murmured: «Jack, you're not alone in this quest and, anyway, few hours of rest will not be an excessive delay: if you force yourself you'll proceed more and more slowly and, even worse, you'll risk to miss some important information because of tiredness. You have already done a great job so far: this book's script is uneven and much tinier than the texts' on which we practised, the sentences are long and boring and the words complex, I'm surprised to see you endure until now. Do not make comparisons with me or Toothiana: we've been accostumed to read for a long time and we just need to look for keywords in order to figure out if a page is interesting or not, while you can't and need to read everything».

Frost bit his lower lip, clearly saddened by the fact he wasn't able to proceed at the same speed of the others and perhaps willing to insist, but eventually he gave up and said: «Okay: that's enough. I'm really tired, I can hardly keep my eyes open and I'm not even able to hold my head straight up, so I'd better get some rest: I can't risk to let the solution to my problem slip under my nose».

«Well done, Jack, that's a good decision. Go back to rest in my room: I assure you that the pillows are really comfortable for a nap! Do you want us to accompany you?» thoughtfully asked the fairy.

«No, no» immediately interrupted her the boy; «I remember the way and I'm able to walk. Stay here: I'll be back as soon as I recover».

After rubbing his eyes Jack stood up, grabbing the staff he had leaned against the edge of the table and exploiting it right away as a solid support, then he walked away without a word or a look, his back bent and his legs occasionally shaken by tremors.

With a grieving expression the man watched him limping, feeling a twinge every time he stumbled and struggling hard to prevent himself from rushing to his aid, but he forced himself to remain motionless: the boy felt already enough useless and psychologically oppressed, and a continuous and urgent assistance would have done nothing but depress him further, making him feel incapable of making even the simplest gestures.

As soon as Frost disappeared behind a corner Pitch sighed and stood up to grab a new tome, but the fairy preceded him, passing him one and saying: «It breaks my heart seeing Jack in that state».

The Boogeyman let out a weary and bitter laugh, then he commented: «Yes. That's why I'm consulting all these books: in order to find a solution to this absurd problem and bring the energy and the smile back to him. I still cannot believe that such a thing could have happened, and I still can't understand».

«And this is the real problem» intervened the woman; «Before we can do anything we need to understand and, frankly, I don't think that these books will help us. I am not suggesting to stop reading: if we really managed to find a story or even just an excerpt concerning a male pregnancy we could undoubtedly learn how to deal with it, and this would only be useful. The point, however, is another: we need to understand what really happened. It's not possible that everything happened by chance and without any telltale sign: there's something which escapes us».

The man pondered for about a minute, but, as soon as he realized his mind was completely blank, he wearily replied: «What can I say, Toothiana, I've told you everything I know and, even if I reflected on this for hours, I wouldn't be able to add anything. Definitely understanding how and why this pregnancy happened would help us, but, in the end, it is not essential: the important thing is to understand how to put everything back in place».

«I do not think we can...» began Toothiana, but soon she fell silent, staring curiously down the hallway.

Startled by the sudden stop Pitch turned, narrowing his eyes to see what was going on, and he finally spotted a coloured speck; accompanied by a continuous rustling and sobbing chirps this quickly approached them and it didn't take long to the Boogeyman to realize it was Baby Tooth: he would have recognized her acute voice among a thousand ones.

Grabbing the tome which had been offered to him he opened it, quickly reading the title and hurrying to turn the page, and, as he imagined, the fairy went beyond him, reaching the mistress of the house and starting to talk thick and fast to her. Focusing as best as he could he tried to ignore the newcomer's chirping trills, struggling to examine the text without missing any detail, but after few seconds, the woman exclaimed: «Jack fell!? Where? When?».

Suddenly raising his head the man asked: «What did you just say!?».

Toothiana lingered for few moments to talk with her little helper, then she grabbed him by the arm and ordered: «Come, now! Jack fell down the stairs!».

Cursing himself for not having escorted his lover Pitch jumped to his feet, overturning the rough chair on which he sat and immediately taking the exit corridor; running as fast as he could he followed the others along the library's labyrinthine meanders, and when he finally came out he rudely pushed them aside, sweeping the area to locate the partner.

«Where is he?» he asked eagerly, since he couldn't spot him anywhere.

«He fell from the suspended flight, Pitch, he should be on the ground!».

Hearing that statement the Boogeyman felt his blood freeze in his veins: even a simple tumble down the stairs could be dangerous, especially since Jack was expecting, but such a fall into the void seriously risked to become fatal.

Appealing to all his self-control he leaped toward the edge of the platform and, from there, over the forest below, wandering his eyes to find a blue spot in the midst of all that green while falling at breakneck speed; when he was just few yards far the ground he managed to catch a glimpse of a well-known hoodie peeping out from the undergrowth, so, hastily summoning a cloud of darkness, he drifted over it, taking advantage of the friction with the sand to slow down enough and tumbling awkwardly into the fernery.

Disentangling himself with difficulty among the creepers and the bushes he stood up, stumbling all the time and calling in a loud voice his lover, and Toothiana imitated him, flying as fast as she could from the top.

With the strength born of desperation the man reached the boy first and, seeing him, he feared the worst: Frost was lying on the ground, his face buried in the moss and the right arm bent in an unnatural position, and he laid perfectly still. Using all the delicacy which he was capable of Pitch grabbed him by the shoulders, turning him slowly on his back, and he let out a whine at the sight of his face bruised and completely covered in blood.

«Pitch, let me see! For all the teeth, he's completely covered in blood! He's still breathing, isn't he?» anxiously asked the fairy.

«I feel the pulse, but it's very weak, and I don't like at all the cut on the forehead: we must immediately do something to help him! I need some clean cloths, hot water, healing herbs and bandages, do you have them?» urgently demanded the Boogeyman.

«No, but I know where to find them» replied the woman while already stepping back.

With trembling hands the man stroked Frost, to check if he had suffered fractures or other injuries, then he kissed him on the bloody forehead and whispered: «Jack, can you hear me? Are you awake? Hold on, sweetie, as soon as Toothiana is back I will cure you and I promise you that I will do everything to make you recover, everything you need and everything you want! Hold on, sweetie!».

After few seconds Pitch heard a thud on his right and was hit by a warm wind, but, before he could realize what had happened, Toothiana shouted: «Get in the portal, Pitch!».

Without further ado or ask any questions the Boogeyman picked the boy in his arms, lifted him up and ran towards the portal that had just been opened, supporting his sweet bundle's head with a thin tentacle of darkness and praying with all his might that, besides the injuries to his body, his little snowflake hadn't received others to his mind.

HeilyNeko made a new fanart for this chapter, you can find it both on my tumblr and on AO3, as usual.

Next chapter will be published on Friday. As you've surely noticed lately my friend have been tired and needed more time to check the translation, so, if you see I'm late, try to have a little patience. I would delay the publication date on Sunday, but I'm sure that, in that case, I will end to publish on Tuesday, and I don't want to. I'll just give my friend the chapter as soon as possible (on Tuesday for this week) and hope it'll be enough. Feel free to leave a comment, if you want to: I like receiving opinions, and I find them useful.


	7. Chapter 7

It seems that life is jeering at me: the last time I wrote I didn't want to end up publishing on Tuesday, and here I am, on Tuesday. Honestly, since my friend has asked me to delay the updates so many times, I think it's better for you to check my tumblr if I'm late (I always publish a note about this), or simply have patience. However, you can be sure that I'll never give up with this translation, nor with writing the story. I hope you'll enjoy this chapter.

**WE DON'T HAVE TO BE ALONE – CHAPTER 7**

Hobbling with difficulty in the undergrowth Pitch walked hurriedly towards the portal, rushing into it without any hesitation, but making sure, just before entering, to evoke new tentacles of darkness and wrap Jack in them: he had no idea about what effect that magic passage could do to a traveller, and he had no intention of risking, especially considering his lover's miserable condition.

Bowing his head to shield himself from the intense gusts he ran as fast as he could, trying not be disoriented by the crazy swirl of colours which surrounded him, nor by the wind's very spicy scent, and he wasn't surprised when he found himself in a large hall of wood and stone, heated by a huge fireplace and adorned with Christmas decorations: he had imagined at the outset that Toothiana would have brought him to North's Palace.

Focusing on the thought of his partner in agony, in order not to be overwhelmed neither by the forced visit, nor by the fear the boy might fall into a panic because of it, he looked quickly around to find the corridor which led to Santa Claus' personal workshop, but before he could spot it a deep, booming voice exclaimed: «Pitch! To what do I owe the pleasure of seeing you? It's been a long time since you visited my Palace! What are you carrying in your arms? You know I don't want your nasty beasts in my house!».

Turning abruptly towards his cheerful interlocutor the Boogeyman shouted: «This is not one of my Nightmares, fool, it's Jack, and he's injured! I need to medicate him, and I need to do it now!».

The master of the house startled at that revelation, clearly disoriented, but, as soon as the man recalled the coils of shadow to show his bundle, he nodded vigorously and urged him: «Come on, let's get him to the infirmary! Follow me!».

Pitch followed him without questioning, being careful not to overly toss his lover in order to spare him additional and unnecessary pain, and, realizing he was going into a wing normally unused, he sped up his pace, fearing he could take a wrong turn and lose precious time.

After a minute which, albeit fast, seemed to last for hours, the two came to a blind hallway, at the end of which there was a small and featureless door; opening it with a slap Northern hastened to move away from the access, to let his guests in, then he carefully closed it, to prevent the draughts of cold air, which sometimes blew in the corridors, penetrate and disrupt the wounded.

Hindered by the low lintel the Boogeyman had had to bow in order to pass it, advancing cautiously so that Jack's ankles couldn't hit the jamb and dragging his own feet on the floor to avoid stumbling in his robe; only few yards far from there he dared to raise his head and, although it was definitely unusual for him entering an unfamiliar place without first examine it and explore it, he went on, and he reacted in such an unexpected way he astonished even himself.

Normally, in fact, he would have allowed himself at least few seconds to gaze at the scenery, as he had done when he had found Toothiana's bedroom: it would have been entirely sensible, for him, fathoming the room with his eyes, lingering on the walls and the ceiling covered with spruce wood and the impressive stone fireplace on his right, but, in this moment, the only thing he could notice was the little cast iron cauldron next to it, already full of water, but still cold; it would have been a usual move, for him, staying enchanted in front of the shelves filled with dozens and dozens of small jars and feeling the irrepressible impulse to reach them and open them all, but, in this moment, the only thing he gave weight to was the thin layer of powder which covered those necessary to him; it would have been more than understandable, for him, getting lost in the engravings of the huge table's legs, that stood in the centre of the room, moving the irises along the curved lines which it was adorned with and letting himself be captured by the floral ornaments, but, in this moment, the only thing he could pay attention to was that the plan was too smooth and hard to properly accommodate a patient.

«What should this table represent to me? A doctor's? Do not expect me to lay Jack on it: he's worn out enough, I need blankets to keep him comfortable! And what about those jars of healing herbs all covered in dust? You should take care of your pathetic infirmary and replace all the ingredients regularly, not let them rot! How will I manage to help Jack if the leaves will be too dry? And put the cauldron on the fire, I need hot water, not ice lollies!» he snapped, angry and anxious at the same time.

«Actually, using ice to prevent the formation of a bump or something worse wouldn't be a bad idea» exclaimed the fairy, suddenly disappearing from view.

Before Pitch could complain, however, she continued: «Anyway, calm down: North couldn't know that we would have arrive, nor that we would have needed the infirmary, and it'll take only few seconds to prepare everything! Here's the covers, let me settle them on the table, then I'm going to get some clean cloths and bandages. Do not worry about the healing herbs, North regularly checks them and we replaced the useless ones less than a week ago: the powder must be sawdust, am I wrong, North? The last time I came here the table hasn't been carved yet».

«You got it! I finished sculpting yesterday and, well, you know I'm not very good at housework: I cleaned the table and the floor, but I didn't noticed the dusty shelves» answered North, placing the pot on the fire and seizing a mortar.

Trying not to do pay too much attention to their silly chatter the Boogeyman hastened to lay his lover on the plane, now made soft by the wool blankets skilfully draped by Toothiana, then he piled them beneath his head to form a sort of pillow and he made sure it stood still, firmly blocked by the fluffy folds of the fabric.

When she handed a white cloth to him he didn't thank her and sharply grabbed it, quickly shaking it in the air to open it and starting to gently rub it on the boy's cheeks to clean the blood, but, to his utmost disappointment, he noticed that this had already become dense and, rather than adhere to the cotton's texture, it smeared on the skin, making impossible to figure out if the epidermis was cut or just dirty.

«Damn it, the blood is already half coagulated: I need a bit of water to remove it! Hand me a scoopful of it, cold or hot may be!» he snapped.

Without hesitation the fairy jumped up, flying fast as a hummingbird to the hearth and grabbing a bowl along the way, then she dipped it into the cauldron and turned back, deftly avoiding Santa Claus' portly figure who was messing about jars and pestle and landing next to the table; after retrieving the pile of gauzes, which she had hastily abandoned next to Frost's thigh, she rummaged for for a while, choosing two very fluffy and thick cloths, then she soaked them with water and carefully squeezed them, passing the first to the man and keeping the second for herself.

They worked hard side by side, bent on the wounded and accompanied by the mortar's rasping sound, the first trying to staunch the left cheekbone, the second the right one, the hair almost intertwined to the feathers in order to have the best possible view, and Pitch nearly burst into a hysterical laughter in seeing his trembling hand next to the fairy's firm one: what a great irony was that he, the King of Nightmares, shuddered with fear, while the Guardian, which he had so often tormented and regarded as a frivolous and pathetic victim, was able to stay calm. It was terribly wrong that hands so big and strong were fallen prey of tremors, unable to control the spasmodic contractions of the panic which had gripped them, incapable to give comfort and cures, but, although he was trying with all his might, the Boogeyman couldn't appease the chills: he had felt an unspeakable terror when he had known his sweet little snowflake had fallen, he had almost died when they had found him lying in the undergrowth, and now, after all that time spent waiting for a response which had never come, he was starting to be overwhelmed by anxiety.

Fingers thin as roses stems intertwined with their, brighting in their flesh pink against the grey skin which they fondly started to cuddle, and a soft voice whispered: «Look, Pitch: there are no cuts, except for the one on the forehead, nor broken bones. The situation is far less serious than we thought».

Not reassured at all by that awareness Pitch withdrew his hand and countered: «It's a serious cut: it's deep, open, and located on a very delicate point of the skull».

«Jack's head is as hard as a rock, he'll be fine soon» intervened North; then, going around the table to reach them and handing them two bowls, he added: «Here I infused sagebrush and rustyback, to create a disinfectant; here, instead, I mashed leaves and flowers of hypericum along with red oil, to help healing».

Throwing away the dirty rag he had used the Boogeyman grabbed a new one, plunged it in the first solution and gently rubbed it on the wound, passing several times to make sure to remove all the dirt and the moss which had spoilt it and lightly dabbing the flesh to cover it completely with disinfectant, but while he was working he heard the master of the house asking: «How did he get hurt?».

«He fell off the stairs» answered the man.

«Off the stairs? How could he injure himself like this? It seems he took a pretty hard blow!» commented North, incredulous.

«Indeed, he fell _off_ the stairs, not _down_ the stairs: he fell off from the flight to the ground» replied Pitch, frowning in order to concentrate better.

«But, since he fell from the flight, why didn't he use his staff to call the wind and glide towards the ground?» insisted Santa Claus.

Irritated by the questions quick and, as if on purpose, well focused, the Boogeyman lied: «He didn't use the staff because he didn't have it with him».

«And why didn't he have the staff with him? Where had he left it?» asked again the other.

«He had left it to me, because he didn't need it» said the man with his teeth clenched.

«What do you mean with "he didn't nee..."».

«_I don't know!_» boomed Pitch.

Both the Guardians jumped back in fright, clearly amazed by his angry reaction, but the Boogeyman wasn't relieved by this: he felt himself trapped in that stuffy little room, so small, so low, so crammed with objects of any kind and no way out, except for the access door, and he clearly perceived his mind yielding and breaking up because of that situation. He couldn't stand staying in there, he would have never wanted to bring there Jack and he was sure the boy would have never wanted to get in there, too frightened by the idea that others might find the ongoing pregnancy, but he couldn't have done otherwise and he had adapted himself; at that point, however, he was certain he had endured far too much, and had no intention to let anybody push him on a barrel with curious, pressing questions: he had promised his little snowflake that he would have protected him, and so he was going to do.

«I don't know and I don't care» he continued, trying to be as trenchant as possible; «The only thing I care about is doing everything possible to make sure that Jack is fine and will recover, and if, in order to do it, it will be necessary to choke you I will not hesitate for a single moment! Your series of silly questions is useless and slanted, and I'm not going to tolerate it: it's distracting me, and this is the last thing I need right now».

Despite the harsh rebuke North didn't counter, nor gave sign he had got offended, and, after nodding, he turned away to retrieve a small spoon and clean bandages; once he had placed the objects on the table and realizing that he couldn't participate in the medication he suggested: «While you medicate the cut I could check out the rest: you said that Jack fell off from the stairs to the ground, he surely got other wounds».

«No!» cried the man, his voice almost cracked by panic at the thought that, while checking, the other couldn't notice Jack's belly.

«Pitch, are you okay?» asked Santa Claus, perplexed; «I am just trying to give a hand and speed the medication, we cannot all work on that cut, why don't you want me to check elsewhere?».

Become suddenly aware of the serious mistake he had done Pitch tergiversated: «No, you don't need to check: I've already looked at him before we came here and he's fine. Don't waste time elsewhere, I need you here: put one hand under Jack's nape and lift it gently, so I'll manage to bandage his head».

Convinced by the justification botched at the last the master of the house did what he had been asked, gently slipping his right hand under the boy's nape to lift it up and softly pushing the left on the top of his head, to prevent him from reclining it; the Boogeyman, instead, took a tablespoon full of hypericum's mixture and smeared it on the wound and, then, after allowing Toothiana to cover it with two thin gauze, he started to bandage it, using up his strength sparingly in order to make sure that this wasn't neither too tight nor too loose.

In that network of fingers, wrists and medicaments, which intertwined to each other to they point they almost got stuck, something moved and a faint groan emerged, reaching with difficulty the presents' ears.

«Jack!» exclaimed the three improvised nurses in unison.

«Ah... don't shout... my head...» muttered Frost in a faint voice.

«Forgive us, Jack» intervened the fairy; «We didn't mean to disturb you: we were just greatly worried about you. Don't strain yourself, okay? We don't want you to feel sick again. Stay relaxed and keep your eyes closed: we've almost finished your medication, then we'll let you rest».

Refraining himself from blowing all up to take his love in his arms, cuddle him and ask him how he felt, the man hastened to conclude his work, carefully wrapping the bandage around his forehead and securing it with a metal hook, then he made him lay again and, bending over him, he asked: «Can you hear me, Jack? Can you see me? How do you feel?».

The boy blinked few times, uttering a faint cry, then he answered: «Yes, now I can see you. Where are we? I don't remember this place».

«We are in North's infirmary» explained Pitch, stroking his cheek to reassure him; «When we found you you were unconscious and your face was completely covered in blood: we had no time to retrieve everything we needed to take care of you, so we came here. If you need anything, just ask, okay, Jack? Everything for you. And don't worry, we'll go away soon: I know that, at the beginning of winter, you suffer from the heat».

The boy, who had widened his eyes and started to gasp when he had realized where he was, seemed almost not to hear the reasons of this unexpected transfer and was about to open his mouth, but at the last sentence he nodded vigorously, catching immediately the truth behind the lie and showing to be ready to use it in order to get away as soon as possible.

Maybe realizing Jack's anxiety, or maybe just by chance, Toothiana came up to them and said: «Now I and North will leave alone for a while, okay? We have to wash cloths, clean the bowls and do other things. If you need help just call us: we will not be far away».

After cuffing the patient about the cheek the woman picked up all the cloths and bowls they had used, precariously stacked them and then walked away, calling North to ask for some information; this, in turn, immediately lent a hand, relieving her load and answering every question, then, waving his hand, he led her into the hall, closing the door carefully and disappearing from view.

«Did they go away? I can't hear well wrapped in these blankets, and turning my head to the right hurt» asked the boy.

«Yes, sweetie, they went away: you can relax now. Is turning your head in this way which hurts you? So don't strain yourself, let me move».

After settling better the blankets under his nape the Boogeyman walked around the table, so as to be at his partner's left side and spare him the pain to turn his head on the hurting area, then he began to stroke his hair and commented: «You're so stubborn, Jack: if only you had allowed me to accompany you I would have supported you, and you would have never slipped on the steps».

«I didn't slip» admitted Frost with a guilty look; «I was flying, but my staff betrayed me: as I was following the flight of stairs it suddenly lit up, it summoned a current which made me crash into the steps and then everything went black».

Upset by that statement the man replied: «Were you flying? Are you crazy? You've been complaining so much about your staff playing up and you didn't find anything better to do but using it? I thought it was pretty clear that the child is interfering with your powers: you should have never tried to employ them!».

Pushing his hands on his mouth to hold back a scream the boy gasped, clearly struck by a sudden realization, then, with tears in his eyes, he exclaimed: «The child! Oh, Pitch, damn it, the child! I fainted before falling, I don't know how I landed, or if I bumped against something, what if I took a blow to the stomach? What if they got hurt? What if they died? What should I do now? Damn it!».

«Jack, Jack, do not panic, stop: do not panic, my sweetie, you're wounded and you're only risking to harm yourself more. Breathe slow, baby, slow, as I'm doing: do you feel my heart? It's calm, and even yours should be: breathe slow» intervened with a sweet tone Pitch, bringing the other's palm to his heart to make him feel his beat.

Initially Jack stirred, clinging so desperately to his rescuer's garment he threatened to tear it up and sink into the flesh below, but soon he was persuaded and, reassured by his serene gaze and his pampering, he calmed down, relaxing the contracted muscles and half closing the eyes.

Pleased with the positive reaction the Boogeyman rewarded him with delicate kisses on his fingers and wrist, then he went down to massage his chest and help him regulate his breath, and he took the opportunity to reflect: why had the boy seemed so worried about the child? Since he had discovered he was pregnant he had been upset by the awareness of having another being growing inside himself and, although he had never explicitly said he wanted to kill the creature, he had clearly disclosed he wanted to get rid of them: why, then, had he showed so much concern for their fate? Maybe he had begun to develop a maternal instinct towards them? Maybe he had started to care about them? Maybe he had never really wanted to hurt them? The man couldn't give a definite answer to those questions, but one thing he was certain about: if Frost was afraid he had the duty to reassure him in the best way possible, even without fully understanding the reasons of his distress. Checking costed nothing and, moreover, it was better making sure everything was alright: if the boy had suffered an internal injury or he was carrying in his belly a child now dead he would have not been able to survive for long.

«Good boy, you've been very good at returning calm: do you feel better now? Don't be anxious about the child: I just need to lift up your hoodie to check if there's something wrong. May I? Will you allow me?» asked Pitch, using all the kindness which belonged to him to talk about that delicate topic.

Jack hugged tightly his own chest, glancing at the door and whispering hesitantly: «And what if in the meantime someone come in?».

Addressing him a smile the Boogeyman patted his head and assured him: «No, Jack, don't worry: I haven't seen Yetis in this Palace's wing, nor Elves, and I think North and Toothiana will take a while to get back here. However, if they return earlier than expected, we will certainly have no difficulties hearing them: among his heavy footsteps, her wing's flutter and their constant chatter we would realize they're arriving many hours beforehand».

The boy laughed at the joke, finally revealing, albeit only for few seconds, the cheerful and playful soul which had always characterized him, then he moved his hands beside his own face, to expose his chest, and he whispered: «Okay, Pitch: I trust you. You can check my belly, but I want to see it, too».

«Of course, sweetie: cling to me» immediately indulged him the man.

Passing the right arm around his partner's shoulders he helped him to straighten his back, making sure to sit him up slowly, in order not to cause him dizziness, then he grabbed his hoodie's hem, lifting it together with the shirt and rolling it almost to the collarbones.

Observing his abdomen he heaved a sigh of relief: the small protuberance which interrupted it was still present, but it hadn't swollen up, nor moved, and the skin perfectly candid didn't show bruises or scratches.

«How is it?» demanded Frost, trying to tilt his head in order to see better; «Is it all right? It seems to me that it's the same as before».

Pitch dared to close the cupped hand on his belly, moving It slowly to stroke it, then he answered: «Yes, Jack, it's exactly the same as before, intact and as white as snow. Does it hurt you, by any chance? Do you feel twinges if I press a little?».

The boy curled his feet when he felt the touch, letting out a small groan of disappointment, then thought for a while and replied: «No, no pain: it's just a bit annoying, but it's always been like this, since it appeared».

«So it means that everything is alright: the child is fine, you don't have to worry» concluded the Boogeyman.

Eager to reward him for his calm and, at the same time, brave demeanor, he pulled down the hood with his nose and reached the little special spot under his ear, but, as soon as he placed a soft kiss on it, he clearly felt his muscles contracting under his lips and start to tremble.

Puzzled he raised his head and what he saw froze the blood in his veins: the door was wide open and on the threshold had appeared Bunnymund, his legs bent and his ears lowered in order not to hit the lintel and a look of pure astonishment on his muzzle.

They all stood still for several seconds, staring at each other, clearly too surprised to react, then the Pooka asked: «Ehm, did I...?».

Before he could complete the question, however, Jack let out a sobbing whine, scraping the blankets and trying to move away as far as possible from the new visitor; taken aback by that gesture and overwhelmed by the waves of fear emanating from his mind the man perceived him slipping away from his arms, and he felt a pang in his heart when he heard him tumbling sprawled on the floor: he had to do something to calm him and block him, or the panic would have induced him to harm himself again.

Using a soft and gentle voice he tried to tranquilise him with sweet words, urging him to sit there with him to talk and decide what to do together and hugging him to prevent him from escaping, but the boy had lost his reason: kicking and scratching he did everything to reject him, and, not succeeding in, he shouted: «I trusted you, I trusted you! You said nobody would have come in and I trusted you! You have betrayed me from the beginning, you brought me here on purpose, you wanted everyone to know! I hate you! Leave me, _leave me!_».

Ignoring the insults Pitch tightened his grip, forcing him to his knees and trying to block his head, fearing he could accidentally head butt the cupboard or the table's leg, but in doing so he passed his hand in front of his face, and Frost didn't hesitate to bite it.

Taken by surprise the Boogeyman cried out in pain, feeling those sharp, little teeth sinking ruthlessly into the sensitive junction between wrist and palm and the joint warping and creaking as it was being crushed, and he instinctively stretched his forearm to escape their reach. The boy, however, didn't loosen his grip, remaining firmly attached to the limb and allowing himself to be throw forward, and only when he fell to the ground he opened his mouth, leaving his victim and taking advantage of the momentum to slip away.

Ignoring the pangs caused by the bite the man lunged after him, moving above him to seize him with his body, but Jack preceded him, elbowing him on the sternum and giving him a kick dangerously close to the groin; grunting the offended collapsed on himself, allowing the other to gain ground, but, as soon as she saw him firmly dragging himself toward the flames he panicked and grabbed him by the ankle.

«Jack, no, stop, do not go towards the fire! I know you want to escape through the chimney, but you can't! You're weak, you're wounded, you don't even have your staff, you would never be able to go beyond the flames, and even if you managed to you'd die from suffocation! Please, think, Jack, listen to me!» he exhorted him, trying desperately to make him come to his senses.

In this chaos of kicks, strokes, scratches, hugs, insults and pleas he heard rushed footsteps and, turning towards the entrance, he saw the Big Four as a whole, piled on each other and intent to stare at them with their eyes wide opened.

Put through the mill Pitch decided to set his pride aside and, albeit with his eyes lowered, he cried: «Sandman, help me! Jack doesn't listen to me, you have to make him fall asleep or he'll harm himself!».

Hearing the call Sandman didn't hesitate a moment and, moving his hands, he summoned a globe of golden sand, which he promptly threw towards the designated victim; in his confused shaking, however, the boy managed to dodge it, being struck only glancingly and simply becoming drowsy, but not unconscious; taking advantage of his weariness the Boogeyman caught up with him and took him in his arms, immediately checking his face to make sure he didn't got hurt, then he left home to the Bringer of Dreams, allowing him to put his hands on his bandaged forehead and definitely plunge him into a deep sleep.

Heaving a sobbing sigh of relief the man let himself go, his chest shaken by the gasps of fear and fatigue, and he began to gently rock Frost, hiding his face against his neck in a childish attempt to stay close to him; before he could put himself together, however, Bunnymund demanded: «May I ask why Jack went mad like that!?».

Gritting his teeth in anger Pitch turned sharply and yelled: «It's all your fault! Learn how to knock, idiot, you're nothing but a beast!».

Offended the Pooka retorted: «Said the King of the Fairies, huh? My paws are too soft, they are not suitable to knock, and anyway I don't understand why I should have done it! Jack is my friend, I don't need to ask for a permission to see him».

«I've never heard in my life an excuse more pathetic than this! "My paws are too soft"... next time use the head to knock, that's pretty hard to beat on the wood, and also empty enough to resonate!».

«Never as hard as yours!» snapped the Easter Bunny, slamming the foot on the ground; «Anyway, you have not answered my question: why Jack fell into a panic when he saw me? What happened? I just caught him with his shirt lifted up, but obviously it's not the first time I see him bare-chested: his reaction makes no sense!».

Growling the Boogeyman leaned over mate, sheltering him from prying eyes and starting to drag him on the floor, but he heard Toothiana explaining: «The problem was not his chest, Bunnymund, but...».

«Not more words!» he yelled, feeling his head throbbing with pain for the strength he had shouted with; he waited few seconds, in order to let the uncomfortable sensation fade, then he narrowed his eyes and continued: «Not more words, fairy: open your mouth again and I swear that I'll slip into it my shadows to suffocate you».

Not intimidated at all by the violent threat the fairy replied: «You'll solve nothing by threatening, Pitch, even if you killed all of us you'd not eliminate the main problem! You cannot hide the truth forever, sooner or later it would come to light, and that time has already arrived: talk to us, Pitch, let us help you».

«I don't need your pathetic help! I've always been alone, I never asked for a hand to anyone and I'm not going to do it now! Jack was fine as long as he was with me and he started to get anxious only when he saw you: if you hadn't got there none of this would have happened. He would have never wanted to come here, so now get out of my way: I'll bring him home» snapped the man, picking his love up in his arms and standing up.

«No» exclaimed the fairy, flying towards him to stop him; «Pitch, don't do anything crazy! Jack is not in the condition to go back to your lair: he's injured, exhausted, upset, he has been suffering for weeks, you can't hope he will recover only by sleeping. He needs medicines and treatments, how are you going to help him if he feels sick again? Think about him, I beg you: what he's asking for it's not what he needs. I know the idea of revealing his conditions upsets him, but you must not indulge his fears to keep him quiet: sooner or later he would have to pay the consequences».

Pitch turned abruptly toward his interlocutor, ready to yell venomous words at her and even to push her aside by force in order to get away, but her pleading and genuinely concerned look made him hesitate, and he was enough for him to lower his irises to understand that what she had said, albeit painful to admit, was true. His sweet snowflake was completely worn out, his skin pale and drawn, his eyes red and sunken, his breath panting and his muscles constantly shaken by tremors: it broke his heart just looking at him. Probably, if he had brought him in his lair, he would have been able to tide him over for few weeks, maybe even for few months, spoiling him with cuddles and attentions, making him sleep most of the time and picking up some healing herbs from the forest above, to prepare the strictly necessary medicines, but, although he adored taking care of him, he knew perfectly well that this was not a workable plan: Jack would have withered each day a little more, consumed by immobility and by the creature growing in his belly, and he could have done nothing to avoid it. He couldn't assist him and look for information about how to free him from the child at the same time, not alone, and not without having access to well-stocked libraries: he needed someone who could take a turn at his bedside and who could make ancient tomes available to him, and the Guardians were the only ones who corresponded to this description. Obviously Toothiana would have been more than enough to achieve this task, and in fact, at first, the man had turned only and exclusively to her, but now the others had seen too much to be kept in the dark about the situation: with his conniption Frost had blown up everything, drawing the attention on himself even before verifying if, indeed, they had been discovered, and the Boogeyman had neither the time, nor the energy to stifle their spontaneous curiosity and keep them out of it.

Trying not to show the immense pain he felt he tried to take a neutral expression, and, gently caressing his lover, he whispered: «Jack needs to rest in a comfortable and quiet place: our quarrel upset him, even if he didn't wake up, and I don't want this to happen again».

«Sure» immediately contented him the fairy; «You can bring him in your room: I and North had gone there precisely to prepare it for you to rest. Follow me: I'll show you the way».

Hugging better his little bundle in his arms Pitch followed the thoughtful interlocutor, keeping his eyes on her tails to avoid the presents', and he didn't raise his head, not even when he passed them; without talking he heeled her along the maze of corridors, not complaining about the length of the path, nor ever asking how far their destination was, and when he finally saw her entering a door he did the same, coming into a warm room. It took him only few seconds to recognize the bedroom where, months ago, he had been hosted during his convalescence, but he didn't even glance at it: he had other things to do at the moment than digging up past recollection and get lost in bittersweet memories, and he was too psychologically worn out to deal with other emotions.

Advancing on tiptoe he reached the bed, rested Jack there and, after settling him in a comfortable position, he took off his robe and draped it on his body like a blanket; he could have simply used the sheets, of course, but these would have surely got dirty with the soil and the moss still stuck in blue hoodie's folds, and, above all, they would have had a smell as nice as insignificant: in this moment the boy desperately needed to be reassured in every way, and the man, well aware of the remarkable calming effect that his scent had on the other, was willing to take advantage of every ace up his sleeves in order to see him turn serene again.

While he lingered to comb with his fingers the silvery strands perpetually ruffled a little hand rested on his shoulder, squeezing it gently, and a gentle voice whispered: «Come, Pitch: let's talk in another room. Don't worry about Jack: Phil will be here to watch over him, while another Yeti will bring some ice, in order not to let the wound swell up and run to us in case of need».

Only partially reassured by the presence of the two hairy giants Pitch felt the strong temptation to leave one of his servants to guard Frost, but in the end he refrained himself: Voluptas would have been perfect to accomplish that task, but it was far too massive for that room, while any other small Nightmare would have just ended up to mess up everything.

Being content with the two Yeti he stood up, deftly recreated his robe and nodded, as if to show he was ready, then he followed the Guardians in the hallway, paying attention to the path in order to remember it; just when he was about to blurt out and halt the small group to make it turn and choose a more accessible place, however, North stopped, fumbled for few seconds with a decorated door's lock and then opened it, inviting everybody to enter.

Too agitated and worried to able to notice the stained glass windows, the carved columns, the inlaid table and any detail in this beautiful and bright living room, the Boogeyman sped up his pace, reaching a chair, but he didn't sit and began, instead, to impatiently stamp his foot.

After he had carefully closed the door and sat at the head of the table North asked: «Well, now that Jack is safe and we are all quiet, may I know what's going on? I got a fright when I saw you two fight in front of the fireplace!».

«Jack is expecting a child» sharply answered the man, looking elsewhere.

As he expected the audience reacted with astonished exclamations, expressions of disbelief and puzzled comments, and he didn't intervene, allowing each one to express themselves without interrupting or countering; when the chatter faded, however, he stated: «Although it may seem absurd I told you the truth: Jack is expecting a child».

«But it makes no sense, Jack cannot conceive, he's a male!» snapped Bunnymund.

«No, really, you don't say?» scoffed Pitch; «In all these months I haven't realize he was a male!».

Hearing him teasing him the Pooka threateningly pricked up his ears, but Santa Claus stopped him and pointed out: «Pitch, Bunnymund's observation is sensible: Jack is a male, he cannot conceive. How can he expect a baby?».

Rolling his eyes the Boogeyman explained: «He told me he had a dream about it, but very confused and rambling, to the point that I can't even be sure if it really played a role in this matter, so, basically, I don't know how he could get pregnant».

«Probably solely and exclusively because of you» commented the Easter Bunny.

«Oh, yes, sure, I always wanted to play with Jack's body to the point to deform it and then gain a screaming, little child to deal with, really, I don't know how I managed to refrain myself until now, considering how much I craved to find myself in this situation!» cried the man, gesticulating to give more emphasis to his speech.

«I doubt you like the baby's part, but you surely like to play with Jack's body: If only you had kept it in your pants you would have never found yourself in this situation!» replied Bunnymund.

A red veil fell over Pitch's eyes and a piercing buzz filled his ears, impeding him both to see and to hear the presents' reactions: he would have never expected such an affront from the Guardian. Blinded by anger to the point he was barely able to move he whispered: «Don't you dare...».

«But I dare, look at the conditions you have reduced him to! Since he joined you Jack has always suffered!» stubbornly countered the Pooka.

«_Don't you dare!_» boomed the Boogeyman, slamming a fist on the table with such energy he cracked it and spread dark tentacles and black sand all over it; «I know better than you his miserable conditions! Do you think I enjoy it? That I see Jack as an extravagant pet? That I consider him a toy in my hands, to be used as long as I feel like and left forgotten in a corner for the rest of the time? You're pathetic! Pathetic and envious! Being alone eats you, am I wrong? The company of your ridiculous eggs is not enough to fill your warren with joy, right? You're missing a mate, you're missing someone to take care of and taking care of you, you suffer when, in the evening, you go to sleep and you curl up on yourself in order to try to fill the emptiness inside you, it is not so? _Is it not so!?_ You have nothing of this, nothing, and you'll never have, but I, that I finally won, I am not going to throw it away! I would do anything for Jack, I would sell my soul, I would cede my powers, I would give my life just in order to make him feel good, and if I knew that my presence hurts him I would not hesitate a moment to disappear forever from his sight!».

«Pitch, try to...» started Toothiana with a gentle tone.

«"Try to" what?» shouted the man, now definitely out of himself; «"Try not to pay attention to the stupid things we're saying", perhaps? You are pathetic, and I will not tolerate this conversation a second longer!».

Too angry even to think he turned, letting the magic sand flow freely along his limbs in sinuous tentacles, then he hurled it against the door, unhinging him and immediately leaping into the hallway to return to his love.

As soon as Pitch came out of the dining room Toothiana, who had gave up stopping him, turned towards Bunnymund, and the other Guardians did the same; feeling under scrutiny the bunny blurted out: «Do not look at me that way, I just expressed aloud what we all think».

«Speak for yourself!» retorted North, while Sandman shook his head sadly.

Taken aback the Pooka lowered his ear, but then he insisted: «Well, it doesn't matter whether you think it or not, because it's the truth anyway! If only he had hold himself back nothing would have happened».

«But you cannot absolutely know this!» exclaimed the fairy.

«For that matter you can't, too!» remarked the Easter Bunny.

«It's true, I cannot be certain, but I have an idea about it» replied the woman; she waited few seconds, to make sure he had the attention of all the presents, then she continued: «I talked with Pitch for long, and enough with Jack, and I think I understood what really happened. I'm fairly sure that the dream is the key, and I'm absolutely certain that Jack is lying about it: he said hastily that he had confused visions and that he remembers little or nothing about them, but he didn't manage to look at me in the eyes as he talked, and, behind his aggressive attitude, he seemed really upset. This conception cannot be happened by chance: you need considerable powers and abilities to make a male abdomen suitable to grow a child, and I see no reason to strive so much if not to achieve a goal. Whoever intervened to prepare Jack wanted him to get pregnant and wants the child to be born and even if Pitch had made a vow of eternal chastity he would have not managed to spare him this destiny».

«Are you insinuating that someone else is involved? But who could be? And then, at this point, the child would be his, right?» asked Santa Claus.

«No, no, I'm sure that Pitch is the father» stated Toothiana.

She allowed herself a moment to think back to what the man had told her about the intercourse they had had in early October and to rework some of the thoughts she had elaborated in the meantime, but eventually she shook her head and said: «I will not explain now what makes me think this: some details are private and I'm not going to disclose them, while others are the result of some reasonings I did, but I'd rather make sure of few supposition before talking about them. Now, I need to act alone, so, no offence, but I don't want you to stand in my way: decide by yourself if you want to wait here, move to another room or even leave the Palace, the important thing is that you don't show up and stay away from Jack's room, understood? Especially you, Bunnymund! Sandy, from you I'd need a different favour: may you follow Pitch? I'll make him go into my realm to retrieve Jack's staff, and I fear that I will need your help when he comes back».

Ignoring Bunnymund's snorts and complaints she looked at the two other Guardians, waiting for an answer, and when she saw them nodding she concluded: «Well, thank you. Have a little patience: soon we will solve this situation. Now I'll go into Jack's room: I'll see you later».

Without further ado she soared, flying over the table and reaching the unhinged door, then, after glancing at the deep cracks and dents which Pitch had imprinted in the wood, she preened her feathers and rushed; she travelled fast through Palace's maze of corridors, deftly dodging the furniture and the walking Yetis, therefore, found the room she'd been looking for, she landed silently and went inside.

As expected the two hairy giants she had left to guard the wounded were gone and the only creatures present were the boy, lying on the bed and still asleep, and Pitch, sitting at his side, intent to observe him and hold a rag full of ice on his forehead, his body completely enveloped by dark tentacles in eternal motion.

Advancing cautiously beside him she entered his field of view, then she stared into his eyes, which had become almost completely black, and called: «Pitch?».

«What do you want from me?» he flatly asked.

Toothiana took a deep breath, then, trying to be as gentle as she could, she said: «You're completely wrapped in shadows and black sand, Pitch, and from your robe's edges are starting to rise creatures that I've never seen before: I'm sure that you don't want to hurt Jack, but if you don't control yourself it'll happen soon».

Struck by that revelation the Boogeyman jumped back, withdrawing his hand and holding his arms close to the torso to hold back the magic sand, then, staring at his love, he whispered: «Don't be silly, I would never hurt him».

«Pitch, I'm not doubting your will, but your self-control» insisted the fairy; «You're full of rage right now, and you're well aware of it, so why should you risk? I fully understand the reasons of your anger and find more than normal that you cannot calm down in few seconds: you need time to calm down and process everything. Why don't you go out for a while? Look at Jack, he's already beginning to stir in his sleep, if you stayed here overthinking soon he'd have nightmares, and you don't want this to happen, right? What about going in my realm to retrieve his staff? It's a journey neither long, nor short, ideal for you to relax without getting too far away from him, and then you'd kill two birds with one stone: you'd vent and bring back to him something he needs».

«But I don't want to leave him alone» countered the man, his eyes already full of concern.

«But he won't be alone, Pitch» promptly reassured him the woman; «I'll be here to take care of him: I promise you that I'll do anything necessary to make him feel good. Don't worry, the others are gone away and I'll not let anyone in, and, if it makes you feel more comfortable, you can leave here Voluptas: I've seen that she's very thoughtful, I'm sure she will help me. Do not fear, Pitch: Jack is sleeping, he won't even notice your absence and, when he awakes, he'll be happy to see you brought back his staff».

Pitch hesitated for a moment, clearly frightened by the idea of abandoning the other without warning him and when he was in need, but in the end he stood up and, after hastily summoning Voluptas, he strided toward the door, murmuring: «I'll be back in no time».

«Take all the time you need, Pitch» replied Toothiana.

Keeping her ears open she followed Boogeyman's movements, listening to his light footsteps reaching the end of the corridor, then to the neighs, emitted by the Pureblood he would have surely ridden, echoing in the main hall, and when she heard no more sounds she dejectedly sighed and got ready to awaken Frost.

I received two fanarts for this chapter, you can find them both on my tumblr and on AO3!

As always feel free to leave me a comment, if you want to: I appreciate them a lot. Well, well, I already translated chapter 9 and I'm about to start chapter 10, so what about publishing on Friday, and this time for real? Yes. Yes, I'll publish it on Friday. My friend told me she will end the chapter in time, and I hope she'll manage to. See you soon, and have a nice evening. Or afternoon. Or morning. Or whatever.


	8. Chapter 8

As I wrote on tumblr my friend needed more time, and I took a decision about when publishing this translation, I'll describe it in the conclusion

**WE DON'T HAVE TO BE ALONE – CHAPTER 8**

Jack closed his eyelids with a sigh and settled on his lover's lap in a better way, looking for the perfect position to enjoy at its best the magic moment. He was in a room, maybe made of wood, maybe of stone, lit by a large fire, perfectly sunk in silence, maybe because it was little, maybe because it was so large to prevent every echo from reaching his ears; indeed, about that room which, however, seemed to have something familiar, he was able to grasp little or nothing, his sight clouded by tiredness and strange grains of sand floating in the air, but he didn't care that much about it: the important thing was having Pitch there with him, and the smell of moss and foxglove which surrounded him was an evidence more than sufficient of this for him.  
Groaning he curled up on himself, letting out a weak yawn while the Boogeyman sweetly cradled him, and he rewarded his warm grip, more enveloping than ever, with gentle kisses on his wrist. After a while, he sensed him leaning down on him, whispering gently: «Jack...».

The voice which had spoken was warm and deep, as usual, but at the same time unexpectedly drowsy and echoing; giving not that much importance to this detail, the boy stirred a bit, complaining weakly and trying to hide his face, but what now seemed undoubtedly a female accent insisted.

«Jack... Jack, you have to wake up... Jack, wake up, it's time...».

Too annoyed to keep on sleeping, Frost woke up, slowly emerging from the dream's land, then, blinking, he asked, confused: «Pitch? Where are we?».

A gentle hand stroked his hair, leaving him all the time he needed to pull himself together, then Toothiana came into his sight, answering: «It's Tooth, Jack, not Pitch: I'm sorry. He went back to my Palace to retrieve your staff, while we are in your room, at North's Palace».

At that answer the boy's eyes widened and he started to tremble, fighting against the blanket wrapping him to look around, but the fairy immediately intervened: «No, Jack, don't panic: there's no one here with us. Sandy is out to work, North and Bunnymund are together on some business and all the Yetis are busy in the workshop: there's no one within feet and feet, and, above all, no one will come to bother us. You're safe here: you can trust me».

Bending his arms in the attempt to free himself from the fabric which trapped him, Jack recognised almost immediately Pitch's robe and, feeling betrayed for the second time, he shouted: «No, I'm not safe! Damn you, why did you bring me here? I trusted you, you both knew I didn't want the others to know about this and I thought you would have helped me! I trusted you and you betrayed me!».

«Jack, no, we didn't betray you!» exclaimed the woman, moving closer to comfort him; «We didn't bring you here out of mere malice, but of sheer necessity. When we found you in the undergrowth you were unconscious, you didn't answer and your face was covered with blood: you were so in an awful state that we feared the worst. We were scared to death and we didn't have anything useful to medicate you, so I decided to bring you here: as you can see, North and I had fitted out an infirmary well stocked, in which we took only few seconds to find everything we needed to make you feel better. There was no other way, Jack, we couldn't risk you received permanent damages just in order to prevent anyone to see you and, anyway, I can assure you we didn't let anyone find you out: as long as we stayed with you, we kept North's attention away from your belly. I don't exactly know what happened next, because, when I arrived, you were already trying to run away and I haven't had the chance to talk to Bunny yet, but, as far as I understood, I suppose that he caught you with your hoodie lifted up, isn't it? Well, Jack, I'm sorry to say it, but, from the way he reacted after, it's probable that he hadn't even noticed a thing: it was your panic attack which made him suspicious, not your belly. However, now, don't get yourself down: I didn't tell you this to make you feel guilty, but to make you understand that, in order to solve this thing, it's necessary to keep calm; otherwise any problem, no matter how little it is, can degenerate into something out of control. Don't worry about the others, for now: they reacted like me, they're ready to help you and they won't judge you. You couldn't have hidden your pregnancy for long, and, anyway, as I said, they're not here. Let's not talk about them now: let's talk about you. I need to speak with you and, above all, I need you to speak with me: I know you lied about the dream. It wasn't as confused as you told us, wasn't it?».

At that focused question the boy startled and he sharply replied: «No, it was confused and I remember little or nothing at all about it».

Toothiana hesitated for a moment, as if she was reluctant to insist, but then she raised her head and repeated: «No, Jack. That's not true. Enough with the lies: tell me the truth. You remember it pretty well, don't you? Was there someone with you?».

Feeling urged Frost denied and turned his head, trying to elude that woman too keen, but soon she took his face between her hands and, staring at him with resolute irises, she insisted: «Denying is useless, Jack: I know you're lying. There was someone with you, right? Was the Man in the Moon? Was it him, Jack? Was it him the person you met?».

As soon as he heard that name he tensed, fighting the memories which were violently emerging inside him, then he dodged her pupils, staring intently at the corner of the ceiling and muttering: «No, I said no...».

«Jack, don't lie to yourself, hiding the truth won't make it disappear» kept saying the fairy, trying to force him to turn.

«Please, stop, leave me alone, I don't want to talk about it...» whispered Jack in a feeble voice, struggling harder and harder to stay focused.

«Jack, it's important: tell me if it was him, you can just say "yes" or "no"!».

_«__Enough!__»__._

The boy startled at that cry so loud and so full of despair: he hadn't even noticed he himself had shouted it, too overwhelmed by those incessant questions, and he had unconsciously let it escape from his lips, looking for a deliverance which, yet, didn't come. Instead of giving him relief, that imperious and almost brutal command left him empty, completely deprived of any will and defence, and all the fears that, until this moment, in a way or another, he had been able to keep at bay, attacked him at the same time and from every side, making him shiver uncontrollably and cutting his breath off.

Realizing his discomfort, the woman intervened, ripping off the robe in which Jack had trapped himself and stroking his hair and his cheeks in the attempt to calm him down, then she whispered: «Calm down, Jack, calm down: you're safe now. You're in a well protected Palace, surrounded by strong Yetis and friends willing to give their own life to protect you: you have nothing to fear about. No, no, Jack, don't do like this, don't arch your back: you're hurting yourself. Breathe, Jack, breathe, slowly, like I do...».

Clawing the sheets under him, Frost let out a harsh sob, arching even more his back, as if he wanted to leave that body which he didn't feel like his any more and which was more and more victim of awful sensations, but, eventually, numbed by the lack of oxygen, he had to gave up and lay down again: docile as a lamb he breathed out, helped by his friend who pressed her hand at the base of his sternum to make him exhale all the air he had collected, then he let her settle his arms and neck in the best position she saw fit and cuddle him.

While he tried in vain to breathe he heard her keep on talking, but, instead of being comforted by her sweet words, very similar to the ones uttered by Pitch, he felt more and more upset: what was reassuring for her, in fact, took another meaning for him. "You're safe now, Jack" she tried to convince him, but he had never felt so in danger in his all life; "No one can come in here, Jack" she repeated, but he however saw two black eyes staring at him; "I'm here with you, Jack" she murmured, but the problem was the second and disturbing presence he sensed; "Don't keep your muscle tense, Jack" she exhorted him, but the memory of sticky hands sliding on his skin prevented him from stopping quivering; "Breathe slowly, Jack" she requested, but he didn't want to inhale that warm and nauseating breathe which had almost suffocated him; "There's nothing to be afraid of, Jack" she comforted him, but fear was the only thing he could feel; "Don't do like that, Jack, you're hurting yourself" she scolded him, but he couldn't imagine a worse pain than the one he was already experiencing.

Overwhelmed by the memories of that encounter so long desired and, yet, so easily degenerated, the boy gave up and didn't stop the tears which had wet his eyes, letting them roll down his cheeks and, from there, in his hair, and even though this, slipping through his ears, started to tickle him, he didn't laugh: he felt too sad to indulge a laughter.

He cried silently for some minutes, his thorax occasionally shaken by a sob and his eyes blank, unable to move; eventually, the little outburst helped him to relax and, albeit in a feeble voice, he managed to whisper: «Yes: it was the Man in the Moon».

Toothiana, who hadn't stop even for a second to assist him during his violent crisis, interrupted the massage to his chest and, squeezing his shoulder as if to praise him and support him, she said: «Good, Jack, you've been very good at telling me this: I knew he had a hand in all this. Now, we should think about...».

«He brought me to the Moon and he showed me his Globe» went on Jack, his voice dull and his look vacant while he talked over the fairy, who promptly fell silent; «It was full of coloured lights, each for one of us, but they kept turning off and those which were still on flashed. He said we are dying, that the world needs a new Guardian and that he had called me for that purpose. He tied me up, he slapped me...».

«What?!» exclaimed the woman, his eyes widened in surprise.

Ignoring her question, the boy frowned, trying desperately to focus on that little corner of the ceiling which had now become all his world, then he continued: «He slapped me again to stun me, then he lifted my hoodie and he had started to go down and he touched my abdomen and... and...».

Without futher ado, Toothiana threw her arms around his neck, holding him tightly and starting to sweetly rock him, then she murmured: «Oh, Jack, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry! I knew he had cast you a spell against your will, but I though he had availed himself of a deceit, not of such a brutality! I'm sorry, I've been so tactless before, I had assumed you felt angry for the deception and ashamed of confessing you've been tricked: I would have never imagined it went like this».

Sobbing, Frost tried to hold back the tears and stammered: «I was so confused, I've wanted to meet the Man in the Moon for such a long time and I didn't think he was so cruel, I tried to defend myself, but it was useless, and then I felt hot and when I looked down I had the belly and I felt so confused, I didn't understand why, why that, why me...».

Supporting his chest like he was a baby, the fairy whispered: «I'm so sorry, Jack, he has been so cruel and evil for no reason at all. Vent, vent as much as you want: you have all the rights to do so».

With a gasp more acute than the others, the boy clung to his friend, managing with the little lucidity left in him not to scratch her wings, and he took refuge against her shoulder, seeking comfort in those soft feathers whose colours made a sharp contrast with his mood.

While he was still fighting with the memory of that pudgy hand digging in his abdomen, he felt the woman going down to caress exactly that spot, and, tensing, he cried out with a voice broken from pain: «No, not there!».

Wriggling, he freed his right arm and he violently slammed it down, well determined to put an end to that inappropriate intrusion, but, as soon as he hit what he supposed was her forearm, he felt it bigger than normal, made of a strange sandy consistency, and, above all, impossible to remove.

Moving away from the collarbone he had been leaning his forehead on, Jack lowered his eyes and found in front of himself Voluptas, tenderly bowed over him and intent to lick his belly, with the same caring and protective attitude with which it had took care of him the last week, when he had sneaked into that rave party, hiding involuntarily a symptom of his pregnancy which, otherwise, would have been clearer.

Moved by the unexpected assistance, the boy sighed and didn't try any longer to ward off the animal, and instead he twisted a little his torso to give it more space, allowing it to slightly lift his hoodie and brush his bare skin; as a reward for the cuddles he had received, he began to caress its forehead, in that space between its eyes that he knew it was particularly sensible for the horse, and, a few moments later, he heard Toothiana murmuring: «Are you happier now that Voluptas is here next to you? Pitch left her here to watch over you: she never took her eyes off you even for a minute, and I think she approached you only now to let you speak. She's a very intelligent creature. I'm sure she'll stay beside you when you'll talk to Pitch».

In hearing her last sentence, Frost felt the blood freezing in his veins and, trying to maintain a quiet voice and a calm attitude despite the cold sweat already rolling down his spine, he asked: «Talking to Pitch? About what?».

«About the dream, of course» answered the fairy.

At that obvious statement the boy panicked, new fears piling on the old ones while he struggled to deal with both of them, and, pretending nonchalance, he commented: «I don't see the point in telling him: something like this could just get him angry. It's not a detail that will help us to find a solution, so it's useless revealing it».

The woman slightly withdrew from the boy, just enough to be able to stare at him while she continued to hold him in her arms, and she exclaimed: «Jack, you're kidding, right? Does it seem like nothing for you? A simple "detail"? It's a capital information, he _has to_ know! We both know he'll get angry, but it's not a good reason to hide the truth from him».

Shivering just at the thought of what Pitch might have done at the news, Jack withdrew from his friend and, backing slowly, he insisted: «Tooth, it's not true, it's not a capital information: it's just a detail. Now that I'm fine, we should go back to your Palace and continue the research: better not losing time, right?».

With a serious expression, Toothiana stated: «Jack Frost, you know well that it's not just a detail. It would be better if you yourself tell him, but, if you don't feel like, I'll do it».

Taken aback by what sounded with no doubt like a threat, the boy gasped and, taking her hands in his, he begged: «No! No, please, don't! Please, I don't want to be alone, please...».

«Jack, what are you talking about? What does it mean "I don't want to be alone"?» interrupted him the fairy, grabbing him by the shoulders.

Frost hesitated for a moment, so tempted to confess that huge fear it had haunted him since the encounter with the Man in the Moon and, for a split second, relying on the familiar intimacy he had with his friend, he was about to do it, but in the end he gave up: he felt too much ashamed of confessing such a thing and, considering how evident it was, he was clear that the woman already knew it and was just ignoring it.

Now, with the mind of a hunted prey, the boy exhaled a groan, looking around in order to spot all the possible ways of escape, then, chosen the window at his right, he gave a hard push at the improvised nurse and screamed: «Get off me! I'll never tell him!».

He exulted with an insane smile in the moment in which he realized he had thrown the fairy off the bed, eased by the effect of surprise and her tiny figure, and he almost laughed when, with a kick, he finally manage to free himself from Pitch's robe, but soon that moment of sick joy ended. As soon as he turned towards the window, his sight went blurry and his ears began to buzz, while a severe nausea overwhelmed him, forcing him to bend over for the pain; groping in the darkness Jack gripped the sheets, trying desperately not to throw up all over them, while something or someone kept crawling on his spine and along his neck; he strenuously endured the first, intense retchings, managing to keep under control his stomach ruined by the continuous regurgitations, but in the end, exhausted, he had to give up.

An acrid, too familiar taste filled his mouth, arousing in him revulsion for himself and his miserable condition, and he clearly felt the acids rolling down his lips on the mattress, soiling the blankets newly washed which had been settled for him and making him feel even more guilty. He let himself be lift like a puppet, sitting sprawled on the sheets with his back against a pillow curiously pointy and his cheek against a strange shivering support, then, now overwhelmed, he whispered in tears: «I'm scared», and he fainted.

«Where the hell did that stupid staff go?» swore Pitch, clenching his hand like claws and opening his arms to better let out all his anger.

Remembering the suggestions Jack had given him, he had exploited the upper winds to move, spurring the Pureblood he was riding at full speed and managing to reach Toothiana's Palace in few minutes, but the advantage he had earned had soon been nullified as the research had gone on: he had looked around far and wide, scouring the undergrowth for yards and yards, climbing down the surrounding caves and checking every inch of the little lake's surface at the feet of the rocks, but even after a long and endless quarter hour he hadn't found anything yet.

Exasperated he kicked a small fern, instantly uprooting it and throwing it in the forest, and he seriously considered the idea of tearing off the entire underbrush in order to locate the stick bringer of frost, but in the end he refrained himself: acting like a brute would have not been appropriate for him, nor, least of all, useful for the purposes of the hunt.

Realizing that the darkness was taking control over him again he took a deep breath, wiping away with a slap the eerie creatures which were rising from the edges of his robe and composing himself, then he rested his chin between thumb and forefinger and began to reflect: where could that damn staff have ended up? It was not animated, so it could not be flown somewhere. Maybe it had sunk into into a hidden crack in the soil? Impossible: Pitch had checked carefully every single inch of that land, not missing even those fissures too small to comfortably accommodate a rod of that size, and he had also taken care to go far away from the building, exploring areas where it was almost physically impossible the object had fallen. Maybe it had slipped into the water and the current had dragged it away? Improbable: the pool he had spotted was quite large, but clearly closed, and if it really had a connection to a larger system that would have it on the bottom, far too deep to suck the wood in. Maybe it was still on the platform? Plausible: actually the Boogeyman didn't remember he had noticed it as he was running behind Baby Tooth, but at that moment he had had other things to think and care about, and it was possible he had missed such a detail.

Dissolving himself into a stream of fine sand he flew toward upwards, crawling along a rock wall and from there on the tiles which decorated the Palace's surface, then he reached the main ledge and he rematerialized. It took him few seconds to realize that the staff was not there: the place was bright and perfectly clear, and no matt objects interrupted that glittering expanse of tesseras of thousand colours; this, however, didn't discourage him: Jack had explicitly told him he had fallen while he was flying over the stairs, so it was unlikely that the stick had stood balanced on the steps. Approaching the flight in question he knelt, placing his hands on the edge to lean down, then, shading his eyes from the sun with a tentacle of darkness, he strained his eyes.

He remained in that uncomfortable and ridiculous position for several minutes, trying to ignore both the giggles from some hilarious fairies and the chirping questions from others, more caring and concerned; unfortunately for him he didn't manage to locate the object of his desire, but, in the end, he spotted a detail he hadn't noticed before. At first, in fact, he had assumed that all the slender columns, much like tendrils, supporting the chests' storages and the platforms were born from the soil and grew upwards just like a bean's stem; looking better, instead, he realized that some of them bent, firmly heading towards the mountains' sides and sinking in the ravines.

Wrinkling his nose suspiciously Pitch dared to advance a little, bending his neck and back to look more closely at the pillar immediately below; he followed the coils with his irises as far as he could, struggling not to get lost in that tangle of gold and small feathered helpers; finally, confused by the landscape, but sure to have guessed what had happened, he turned into a shadow and threw himself into the void.

Without any hesitation he hastened to go down the column, twisting around it to dodge the flying assistants and rapidly shifting along the spirals, then he plunged under an arch, and, in the niche in which the pillar sunk, he found the yearned staff.

With a snort half incredulous and half annoyed he grabbed it, a sarcastic grin on his face in front of the unfortunate and absurd reality: the wood, falling, had hooked himself to the tubular structure, slipping along it as if it were a rail and so ending up in a place where no one would have ever thought to seek it.

Refraining from yelling complaints and curses the Boogeyman turned and snapped his fingers to summon a Pureblood and he jumped into the saddle, landing heavily to make it neigh and clear out the sky from the twittering fairies and immediately kicking it to spur it at full gallop.

Less than two minutes later Pitch violently yanked the Pureblood's reins, ignoring its pained neighs and drifting downward, then, without slowing it down, he made it plunge into the round opening on the roof of North's Palace, skilfully guiding him around the Globe and dismounting airborne. As soon as he put his foot on the ground he strode along the hall, not deigning to look neither at the Yetis, nor at his own Nightmare, which, now free, had began to spread terror among the present Elves; threatening eyes glared at him and loud curses were addressed to him, but Santa's helpers didn't try to stop him, nor to hinder him, probably thinking that that aggressive attitude was due to his Boogeyman's nature: what they didn't know, actually, was that all that furious rush was caused by something else.

Ever since he had seen the half-timbered building peeping through the snowy mountains the man had perceived a wave of fear emanating from it, intense, creeping, acute, and yet incredibly dense, but, above all, terribly familiar: he had felt it pervading his limbs like an energizing, but, at the same time, stinging balm, and filling his nostrils with a sweet perfume of flowers.

Speeding up his pace he entered the hallway towards which he was heading, quivering with anxiety and guilt, then he reached the door he was looking for, flung it open and burst into the room without announcing himself, and when he did it he stopped, transfixed by the vision standing in front of him.

Jack, his little, sweet snowflake, was awake, abandoned on a pillow hastily placed against the headboard and attended from both sides by Voluptas and Toothiana, and he was in tears, his eyes widened, but blind, and his mouth opened in a vain attempt to breathe. As soon as he saw his lover coming in, instead of cheering, he seemed to panic even more, flattening himself against the pillow and staring at him as a hunted prey looks at its predator, and Pitch, who was now at a loss, asked: «What's going on here?».

The fairy, who, too busy helping the boy, hadn't noticed the newcomer, turned and answered: «Jack is not feeling good: he's had another panic attack and nausea. Give him time to recover, then we'll talk».

Hiding the pain that this news caused him behind a resolute expression the Boogeyman stepped forward and ordered: «Stand aside: I'll take care of him».

Even if he had barely moved he saw Frost wincing and clinging to the woman's shoulder with a pleading look, shaking his head and wetting her feathers with the drops trickling down his cheeks, and the Guardian, caressing his head, said: «Pitch, I beg you: wait just a few minutes. Don't you see that Jack is upset? Give him time to recover and then we'll talk».

Without obeying her request the man exclaimed: «What do you mean with "wait just a few minutes"? Do you think I'll stay here watching you while he suffers? Not even in your wildest dreams! I've been taking care of him ever since I met him and I will continue to do so, so go away! Leave him to me».

Despite the resentment he felt since he had been left aside and the growing anxiety for that situation absolutely incomprehensible, Pitch had made sure to moderate the tone of his voice and choose his words wisely: he had not shouted, but simply blurted out, and, although it was natural for him continuously affirming that Jack belonged to him, he had omitted that sentence so possessive, focusing more on reiterating the sense of responsibility he felt towards him.

All these precautions, however, were useless: the guy didn't change his terrified expression, nor his fearful attitude, and the improvised nurse didn't move away, slowly shaking his head as if to beg him not to insist.

For a moment the Boogeyman, dumbfounded, slowed almost to a stop: why, why nothing of what he was doing gave the desired effect? Where was he going wrong? He was sure, he had maintained his normal behaviour, showing to be rather more loving and expansive than usual, so why on earth had he achieved such a disappointing result? No, he couldn't have made any mistake: an external element should have intervened to disturb the balance of their relationship, and the only way to find out what had happened and remedy was talking with Frost.

Resolute in his intention he stepped forward again, but Toothiana, straightening her back, stated: «It was the Man In The Moon who did all this: he's the one who caused Jack's pregnancy».

As soon as Guardian of the Guardians' name was pronounced the boy let out a high-pitched and almost sobbing whine, starting to tremble and to painfully crawl away from the woman, and the man instinctively commented: «You must feel really hard pushed to come out with such a statement. Do I have to consider this as the last, failed attempt to stop for any reason?».

«No, Pitch» replied the fairy; «It's the truth: the Man In The Moon caused all this. He brought Jack in his Palace, he talk to him to entice him, then the immobilized him and cast a spell to his belly against his will to make him pregnant: Jack himself confessed it to me a while ago. Actually It's for this reason that he had the panic attack. I would have wanted to avoid interfering and let him tell this to you, but the only idea seemed to scare him to death, and there's no longer time to wait».

Pitch stopped, listening in silence to her words and standing perfectly still when she concluded the explanation: he simply didn't want to believe what she was saying. It was not true, such a thing could have not happened, it was not possible that the Man In The Moon had dared so much: it had been centuries since he had intervened in person to influence the events, remaining well holed up in his gleaming satellite while the creatures around him were born, fought and died, and it made no sense that, suddenly, he had decided to manifest himself that way, showing himself to a spirit whom he had always ignored and deforming his body to make it become almost a freak of nature. He couldn't picture him peacefully talking to Jack, he didn't want to imagine his pudgy hands touching his flat stomach, he couldn't even tolerate the idea he had forced him to do something he didn't desire: his sweet snowflake was his, his and his only, he had suffered more than enough during his life and no one should afford to lay his eyes upon him with evil intentions. No, he didn't want it to be gone that way, but his lover's crystal clear irises shouted the contrary: polished with the tears of an experience he would have never asked to live, deep and light for a fear he wasn't able to drive away, the pupils opacified by the despair which now had definitely gripped him. No, he didn't want it to be gone that way, but the reality, unfortunately, didn't coincide with what he desired.

He remained quiet for a few seconds, as if he still were not able to fully grasp the news, his eyes downcast, but his face raised, the air he was reflecting on the story which had just been reported; soon, however, he bent his lips into an angry and disgusted sneer, and, without further ado, he let the anger pervade himself, awakening the darkest powers he owned and opening his arms to release them.

«Sandy, stop him!» cried Toothiana, stretching out her hand to intervene.

Made suspicious by his words Pitch turned, finding himself in front of the Bringer of Dreams on full battle alert, and in an angry voice he warned him: «Don't you dare to hinder me!».

Frowning to focus Sandy opened his fists, evoking two whole handfuls of magic sand, then he threw them at his opponent's feet: immediately the two small puffs expanded to no end, covering the floor within three yards and wrapping the Boogeyman's ankles and calves, then they twitched, wincing and splitting into dozens of thin ropes which flung themselves at him.

The man let out a growl at this move, unleashing his shadows to smother the other's light, but new strings rose up to replace the destroyed ones, clinging at his limbs and stretching until he dropped to his knees; roaring threats and insults he exploited his energies whole hog, corrupting the sand he managed to touch and shaping it with his mind to form monstrous creatures, but Sandman was not intimidated and pulled out his deadly whips to defend himself; blinded by the desire for vengeance Pitch bared his teeth, biting the ropes to loosen them and summoning the blackest darkness he knew to use it against his temporary enemy and clear the way to get to the real one, but a familiar voice caught his attention.

«No, stop, don't hurt him!» cried Jack behind him.

Immediately the Boogeyman heard a thud, a flutter of wings accompanied by flustered reproaches and then violent coughs, and it didn't take long to him to guess what had happened; oblivious of his battle he turned, ignoring the three ribbons of sand wrapped around his neck, and after locating his lover on the ground, busy spitting blood, he rushed towards him, risking almost to strangle himself.

«Sandy, free him or he'll end up hurting himself!» hastily ordered the fairy.

Almost instantly the man felt the constraints which trapped him loosening and he violently tugged at them, tearing them and finally advancing on all fours towards the partner to help him, but when he saw him flinch, scared, trying to look as small as possible while an uncontrollable terror emanated from his mind, he stopped, bringing a hand to his chest to soothe the pain from that rejection.

The fairy, who, meanwhile, had intervened to assist Frost, let him go, following him with her eyes and addressing him a compassionate gaze, then, turning to Pitch, she whispered: «Please, Pitch: he's already feeling bad, don't make him suffer more with your anger. I'll leave you alone».

After standing up with difficulty she flew away, sadly proceeding into the hallway, then, when Sandy had reached her, she quietly closed the door, leaving the lovers finally alone.

The Boogeyman waited a whole minute, maybe to be sure that the two Guardians had got far enough, maybe, more likely, to gather the courage, then he simply asked: «Why didn't you tell me, Jack?».

Hearing his name the boy winced, slowly raising his head, but keeping his eyes lowered to the ground, and when the man tried to approach him again he reacted like a hunted prey, crawling up to the night table and nestling against it, clinging to it so desperately that it almost seemed he wanted to merge with the wood: the umpteenth rejection from Jack, the umpteenth bitter blow to Pitch.

Covering his mouth with the palm, in order to prevent any lament from escaping, the man swallowed and tried to think with a clear mind: why, why did his little snowflake reject him like that? Maybe he didn't love him any more? Maybe he was sick of his occasional outbursts and his rude attitude towards his friends? Maybe he had begun to be afraid of his power and of the dark shadows he controlled? Or maybe, more than for himself, he felt fear for the creature he carried in his belly?

«Jack» he whispered with difficulty, trying to concentrate in order to sound as reassuring as possible; «I'm sorry I got angry before: I apologize. I didn't mean to scare you, or hurt you, and I don't want to do it now: I'm here to help you. You know this, you've always known it, even before I realized it, yet you continue to flee and I clearly perceive that you're scared by me: why? Give me a reason, Jack. Give me a reason to all this, and, if I do I am the cause, I promise you I'll go away and won't bother you any more».

It cost him a lot uttering the last sentence, but in the end he was glad he had done it: few months earlier he had promised to himself he would have done anything to make sure that his lover was healthy and safe, anything, including leaving him forever to avoid harming him, and he was not going to break his own word.

The boy, meanwhile, seemed greatly surprised by that promise, so amazed to widen his eyes and turning to stare at him, but he quickly composed himself, returning to rest his head against the night table and wrapping his arms around his own chest; he remained in that position for a few seconds, clearly struggling against the tears which rose spontaneously in his sapphire eyes, then he murmured: «You are not forced to stay here for pity: I know you want to leave, then go away».

The Boogeyman, taken aback, frowned and was about to show his incredulity, but in the end he managed to restrain himself and, keeping a serious tone, he replied: «Do not assume things you don't know: just answer my question».

Frost shivered slightly at that authoritative request, then he confessed: «I'm not worthy of you any more».

More and more puzzled, but at the same time happy for the other's submissive attitude, the man took advantage of this and, hardening his voice, he ordered: «You're too vague, Jack: explain yourself better».

The boy curled up even more on himself, starting to tremble and constantly eyeing the space under the bed, perhaps willing to take refuge there, but eventually he gave in and stammered: «I'm not worthy of you because now I've been ruined by someone else. I know well the compliments you used to make to me: you always told me that I was beautiful, sweet, innocent, albeit impish, that I was as pure as snow, that I was your angel come from heaven. I've often tried to wake up before you, to hear you whisper these words in your sleep, or to stay focused while we were making love, in order not to miss them, because they always made me feel so special, but this is no longer so: I am no longer so. I'm horrible and I'm becoming more and more deformed, I'm pathetic, I lost my powers and I need help to do everything, but, above all, I am no longer pure: I have a child that you never wanted growing inside of me, and I cannot go back. I'm not your beautiful angel any more: I'm loathed by myself, and I know you're loathed, too».

Pitch kept silent throughout the speech, leaving the other all the time and the room to explain himself better, then, when he finished, he asked: «Is that all? Is there anything else which makes you flee away from me?».

Jack looked surprised by the question, but soon he answered: «No, that's all».

Taking a deep breath the Boogeyman stood up, with a few strides he covered the distance which separated himself from his love, he grabbed him as he tried to crawl beyond the night table and, kneeling behind him, he held him in his arms and whispered: «You're such an idiot, Jack».

The boy jumped when he felt the jerk, probably fearing he would have been beaten or punished in some other way, and he stiffened in the embrace, unable to refrain himself from commenting: «So you're... are you not loathed by me?».

«No, not at all» promptly replied the man.

Wrapping his forearms around his waist he lifted him up, making him sit on his thighs and began to gently rock him, then he said: «You said so many nonsense that I don't really know where to start. Let's talk about beauty: leaving aside the fact that it's altogether secondary, why would you call yourself "horrible"? Your body is deforming, that's evident, but not in an exaggerated way, nor in an irreversible one: a belly is not enough to make you ugly, nor to make me run away disgusted. You're not pathetic, Jack: you're sweet just like you've always have been. I'm sorry if I lost patience when you've had mood swings, or if I looked at you with a compassionate expression: I don't pity you, baby, it just pains me seeing you suffer. As for your powers, however, you didn't really lose them: the child interferes and prevents you from using them as you wished. As soon as this will end you'll be able to control them again, believe me, and, please, do not feel useless in the meantime: you're autonomous just like any human being, and, anyway, if there is the need, I'll gladly carry you in my arms and perform every task instead of you».

«I don't want to force you to be my nurse» weakly protested Frost.

«Hey, Jack, you've forgotten who you are?» demanded Pitch, wiping his tears with delicate kisses; «You're my little, sweet, beautiful snowflake: you're mine and mine only, and I will always take care of you, whatever your needs. There's nothing I wouldn't do to to make you happy and keep you healthy».

The boy seemed to cheer up at that statement, but soon he curled back on himself and mumbled: «But I'm still ruined».

Hardly holding back an annoyed growl Pitch took Jack's chin between thumb and forefinger, he pulled up to make him raise his face and, staring deep into his eyes, he stated: «No one can ruin you unless you let them change you for the worse. Did you understand, Jack? No one. And I'm not talking about physical appearance: I'm talking about your soul».

The boy blushed at that sentence, struggling to keep the eye contact and almost immediately snuggling against his chest, then, grabbing the collar of his robe, he murmured: «I'm sorry, Pitch. It's just that I didn't like what the Man In The Moon did to me».

A that statement the Boogeyman clearly felt his blood freezing in his veins, fighting against the gruesome images of the abuse his lover had experienced to try to control his anger and pain, then, when he felt quite calm, he took Frost in his arms and whispered: «No wonder, baby. Now come on bed with me: we'll talk about that, and I promise I'll make you feel better».

HeilyNeko made another beautiful fanart for me, you can find it both on my tumblr and on AO3!

First of all I hope you liked this chapter, and I tell you again that, if you want to leave me a comment about it, you should feel free to do it, and I would be really happy to read it.

Secondary, I decided I'll post the new chapters ONLY on Friday: if my friend is in time I'll update in time, if she's not I'll update the next week. Obviously I'll post a note on tumblr if I'm forced to delay. I know this decision can seem severe, but I hope it's for the best. As you've surely noticed lately I always ended up publishing on Sundays' evening, and this wore me out every time: first of all I was terribly stressed, because I spent two days waiting for my friend who always told me "Don't worry I've almost finished" and not knowing when and if she arrived, then I always checked the correction in a hurry and late in the night, struggling to stay focused enough in order to offer you the best, and for what? Nothing, because, obviously, since on Mondays people work and go to school, few saw the update and pretty nobody read the chapter. It was stupid and useless both for me and for you. In this new way I'll give you the chapter in the best moment of the week, allowing you to read it calmly, and I'll create a regular "schedule", which will let you always know when you should check for the update, and let me be less stressed.

Talking about the next week, I've already translated chapter 9 and started the 10th, so my friend should be able to check it, since she has six whole days, but if she can't I'll post a note on tumblr on Friday. I hope I won't have to. Have a nice evening


	9. Chapter 9

**WE DON'T HAVE TO BE ALONE – CHAPTER 9**

«No wonder, baby. Now come on the bed with me: we'll talk about that, and I promise I'll make you feel better».

Happy for the faint, but sincere, smile Jack addressed him, Pitch settled his hoodie and stood up, gently holding him in his arms and then resting him on the blankets. Remembering the way in which the boy had reacted after he had confessed he was pregnant he slightly withdrew, leaving him room to curl up on himself and reaching for the foot of the bed, intending to grab the last piece of the frayed blanket he had left him to repair it and then wrap him, but his lover surprised him: instead of letting him do what he wanted and give his back to him he clung to his shoulders and, taking refuge against his neck, he whispered: «Can you stay with me?».

«Of course, Jack» promptly replied the Boogeyman.

Unable to reach the dark fabric he'd aimed at he gave up retrieving it and sat better on the edge of the mattress, in order to lie down next to Frost, but he didn't manage to: this, in fact, had throw his legs around his waist, catching him in a suffocating and increasingly desperate embrace, and he didn't have the heart to push him away. Holding back a pained sigh he hugged him, so as to make him loosen his grip, then he knelt on the bed and bowed his back, softly resting the boy on the sheets and, at the same time, lying on him without encumbering him; exploiting the fact that his pelvis was still raised he stroked his back with open palms, trying to tranquilise him with a massage that he knew had a calming effect on him, and finally he succeeded in his intent: the other gradually relaxed all the muscles, slowly slipping on the blankets, and eventually he let him go, laying on the back with the hands beside his face and the opened thighs resting on the man's.

Satisfied with the partner's quiet attitude Pitch addressed him a smile, to encourage him and show him how proud he was of him, then he rearranged the bandage, which in the meantime had moved slightly, lifting some rebel strands; seeing his expression turning in a pained grimace he decided to reward him for his strength and he placed a little kiss just under his ear, as he usually did, but this time a voice interrupted him.

«He started from there» said Jack.

At that statement the Boogeyman's blood froze in his veins: the very idea that his little snowflake had been attacked by a stranger had filled him with anger, but hearing directly from his mouth the description of the incident, even albeit just short and not specific, made him feel so bad that he almost feared he could throw up. Beset by nausea and doubts he hesitated a moment, unable to decide whether it was better hushing the boy and endeavouring to make him forget the incident or encouraging him to tell everything, but after a while he heard him go on his own volition and he decided to let him, remaining ready to intervene in case of need.

«To be sincere he didn't start from there» specified Frost; «The first thing he did was stroking my hair, a bit like parents do with disobedient children, but that gesture only annoyed me: it was the rest which scared me. He went down on the cheek and then along the neck, and I clearly felt his little finger sliding on that special spot under the ear, and then on the jugular, where you always bite me, and also just above the collarbone, where you often press your nose. He did it on purpose, I'm sure: I don't know if he did it in order to try to put me more at ease, to make me feel guilty or to ruin all the good memories I have of the time spent with you, but he certainly did it on purpose, and he managed to hurt me. It's been horrible feeling him touching all those spots you usually stroke, it felt so wrong! And he was wrong, he, along with his greasy and sticky hands which I still perceive on myself. It doesn't matter whether I sleep or stay awake, whether I let myself go or concentrate, whether I'm alone or in company, whether I'm in an unknown place or at home: I still perceive him on myself, I feel suffocated by his presence and I can't stand this any more. Fight him out, I beg you: fight him out, Pitch».

Shaken to the core by this confession the man swallowed hard, striving in order not to tremble, nor to show his upsetting in any other way, so he did the only thing which came to his mind: he took his head between his hands, both to support and to protect it, and he began to kiss him. If that disgusting creature's finger had managed to impose themselves on him to the point they had imprinted in his mind their touch's memory, making him shiver continuously despite they had gone since a long time, then his lips could replace them, giving him nice cuddles to make him understand that that terrible moment had passed and it would have not returned, and to make him remember the innumerable and pleasurable moments of intimacy spent together; of course he was fully aware that what he had was just a hope, not a certainty, and that it would have anyway been a solution temporary and suitable only for some of the unwanted caresses received by his lover, but it was the best he had at the moment: the boy had clearly showed he required physical contact to be reassured and he was not yet in the condition to be able to listen, and Pitch himself needed time to process what had happened and articulate a useful and sensible speech.

Closing his eyes he pressed his lips on that skin of pure velvet, letting himself go to retrace by instinct the path he would have never got tired to follow, and he slid down, slowly going along a tense sinew; he lingered for long on the areas he knew were more sensitive, redrawing their every inch, but making sure not to use neither the teeth nor the tongue, in order not to turn sensual what was meant to be a pure act of tenderness; after a whole minute he left the throat to pass to the left shoulder, slightly pulling down his hoodie to uncover the collarbone and stroke it with his nose, and when he gentle rested it on the minute, semicircular hollow just above the sternum he heard the partner speaking.

«Since I didn't stand still and quiet he slapped me and cut my lip, then he slapped me again to stun me» added Jack with a trembling voice.

Lingering still a bit on his chest to grind his teeth and drain the anger in a silent snarl the Boogeyman shook himself and moved on his left cheek; he didn't ask him if that was actually the first spot where the Man In The Moon had hit, because he didn't want to force him in any way, nor make him even more painful to describe that terrible experience, but he gently tightened his hands around his head, in order to perceive every thrill and guess if he were acting in the wrong way.

With great relief he felt the other relax and saw him half close his eyes, so he didn't further ado and covered his cheek with delicate kisses, from the cheekbone to the jaw, from the ear to the corner of his mouth, and then back on the other side of the face, breathing softly against his skin, as if this were still red after the backhanders and was likely to get irritated easily; he took all the necessary time to complete what he had planned, making sure even to stroke with the fingertips his rebellious hair to make him feel more at ease, and then he moved right on the chin, resting his mouth on his in a fleeting caress and taking then his lower lip with his front teeth.

He sucked it slowly, just as if he had found it injured and bleeding, and when he freed it he kissed it again, redrawing its every bend to make sure to pamper even the point which it had actually been cut; feeling it twitch he stepped back, so that the boy had all the room he needed to speak, but as soon as he did it he saw his partner trembling, so he whispered: «Jack, you're not obliged to tell me anything, if you don't want to. I never asked you to describe me what he did in details, and I'll never do: I let you talk because I thought you wanted to vent, but I don't need to know everything to help you feel better. Let's stop here, okay?».

«No!» exclaimed Frost.

With a desperate expression he immediately clung to the man to force him to move closer, but he managed to calm down almost immediately; he stood motionless for few seconds, staring intently into his eyes and taking long, deep breaths, then he let him go again and, lowering the irises, he asked him: «No, don't stop. I don't like telling what he did to me, but it helps me get rid of the burden: if I didn't talk I would continue to think about it and feel sick. Can you continue helping me? I like the cuddles you're giving me: they're driving away his hands».

Striving with all his strength in order not to show the pain he felt for that request and how much it was putting him through the mill Pitch smiled at him, trying to focus on the fact that the other was benefiting from the treatment, then he hastened to reply: «Okay, Jack: tell me and I'll do everything in my power to fight out the bad sensations you're feeling».

Reassured by the response the boy dropped his arms on the mattress, then he squirmed a little, and, turning his head, he stammered: «He raised the hoodie, he put his hand on my stomach and then he... he went down».

Shuddering the Boogeyman stepped back, moving down to his sternum, then he slid his fingers under his hoodie and began to raise it; he proceeded slowly, taking care to be sweet, but also quite hard in order not to tickle him, and he hoped until the last that Jack stopped him, but it didn't happen: eased by his arched back arched he managed to pull his garment up to the chest, and at that point he was forced to bend down, to keep a promise that he regretted more and more.

Not feeling ready yet he tried to gain time, rubbing his nose and forehead against his stomach so flat to be concave, but eventually he had to resign, clamp the jaw to stop the tremors and rest his lips on his alabaster skin. He kissed him with much less conviction than before, redrawing at first the two last ribs and then sliding down along an imaginary straight line toward the lower belly, but when he reached the navel he had to go back: he couldn't continue.

The more he thought over and the more the idea he had had seemed to him silly, superficial and even dangerous: repeating the exact same moves performed by the Man In The Moon might seem a good solution to banish from mind the horrible memories, but actually he was doing anything but forcing him to relive them, and, considering how terrible they were, a couple of caresses couldn't be enough to make them fade. Fondling him induced him to pretend to feel better, but in truth it did nothing but accentuating the sexual component of everything happened, threatening to disturb and confuse him, and the more they proceeded, the more the trauma rooted and could become incurable; what frightened him most, in fact, was not what he had done, but what she was about to do: how long would Jack have asked him to continue? And what about him, how long would he have been willing to indulge him? How far would he have pushed himself to support his false desire? Caresses were a good compromise, kisses an expedient still acceptable, but when he had had to get under his belt what would he have done? Would he have gone on, as if nothing had happened? No... no, he would have never managed to. He wasn't aroused at all, he didn't want to use his fingers to make up for that deficiency, he wasn't even going to allow him even the foreplay: a night of love would have never erased the rape. In due time they would have done it, working to heal with sweetness the horrible wound the boy had received and, consequently, his life and the relationship with the Boogeyman, but that was not the right time, nor least of all the way: they would have had to get there calmly, talking, trying slowly, making sure in every way to not force Frost's mind and not to overlook any detail of his wellness.

Determined, however, not to stop too abruptly that unusual cure he had allowed him, Pitch swerved down again, went beyond his navel and focused on the little belly which had already grown: he pampered it, covering it with kisses and stroking it with his lips, always careful not to press too much, but also not to appear overly hesitant, and he made sure to caress with the tip of his nose every point he had just given attention to.

He went on for a long time, allowing the boy time to get used to it and then to relax under that soft touch, then, just when he was a whisker away from his trousers' hem and he got ready to talk to him, he heard him whispering: «He stopped there».

Gobsmacked the Boogeyman stopped, widening the irises and looking up: what had he just said?

As if he had heard the unspoken question Jack lifted his head, settling on his elbows to observe him more easily, then he blushed and said: «Oh, you, you thought he had...? No, not really, it was just this, I... I... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you, I've made a scene over such a stupid thing, I made it sound like it was serious, and instead... sorry, I've been stupid, I...».

Without hesitation the man crawled up until he could stare the other into his eyes, then he pressed his index on his lips and murmured: «Shhh. Don't you think even just for a moment such a silly thing, baby: you have not made a scene, and you have not done a stupid thing. It doesn't matter that the Man In The Moon didn't go all the way: he however forced you to do something you didn't desire, beat you and even changed your body until you got pregnant. You have every right to be upset, but now... Jack?».

Although he was convinced that proceeding as quickly as possible with his speech would have been good and dutiful in order to reassure the other, Pitch couldn't help but stop when he saw him rolling his eyes and stirring, worried he had said something wrong; just as he was about to ask him, however, the partner abruptly pushed him away, unceremoniously forcing him to straighten his back and climbing up on him to cling to his shoulders.

The Boogeyman didn't take long to understand the reason for that behaviour: he just needed to look down to see the lover tense, his head tilted back, his left hand pressed on his mouth and his eyelids lowered in an expression half suffering and half concentrated, and then draw the obvious conclusion.

«Nausea, Jack?» he sympathetically asked.

The boy nodded vigorously, remaining with the muscles contracted for a few moments, then he relaxed and, removing his hand, he explained: «Yes, another bout of nausea. I'm sorry I pushed you away like that, but I really feared I was about to feel sick. It was one of those strong but short attacks, however: in these cases, if I straighten up my back enough quickly, nothing happens and I recover soon. They're not all the same, you know? A couple of times a day I have lighter, but more persistent, ones, and it doesn't matter what position I take: sooner or later I always end up vomiting; other times, instead, they come like this, and fortunately I manage to resist. Maybe now it's better for me to sit up: do you mind?».

«Not at all» promptly replied the man.

Moving the palms on Frost's hips he slightly lifted him up, so that he could stretch his legs over the edge of the mattress and sit in the usual position, which avoided them to go numb, then he settled the boy on his lap, making his right side lean against his chest and passing his arm behind his back to support him.

«Pitch? May I finish?» demanded the boy in a faint voice.

Realizing the partner was referring to the dream Pitch encouraged him: «Sure, Jack, but only if you feel like doing it».

«Yes, I do» immediately replied Jack; «When he reached the trousers' hem he stopped, he pressed his hand firmly, telling me that I'd have given birth to the new Guardian the world seems to need, and then he let me go. I felt so hot after he touched me, I couldn't stand by myself and I bent over, and when I did I had the belly. It was even larger than this, it scared me so much along with the Man In The Moon's expression, so, when I saw him approaching, I tried to get away, even if I had been tied to the columns. He never managed to reach me: just before he touched me I opened my eyes and found myself in the same place from where I was before, in Russia. At first I thought I had just awakened from a bad dream, but now I'm afraid he had simply brought me back, making sure that I believed nothing had happened for real. That's it. Are you happier now that you know how it went, and that the Man In The Moon didn't do what you thought?».

The Boogeyman listened intently his whole speech, allowing himself a small sigh of relief when he was confirmed that the Man In The Moon, despite having made a horrible and deplorable act, had at least refrained from committing a complete sexual abuse, barely holding back a growl when he heard that the lover had been tied up and shaking his head in disbelief when he learned that everything had really been disguised as a dream, and finally he replied: «Of course I'm happier, Jack, but for you: for you and for you only. Don't you ever think that such an experience could tarnish you, or make you not worthy of me any more, because it's not so: the fact you've only been caressed, supposing that we can really use the adverb "only" in such an occasion, reassures me not because it confirms me you're still pure, but because you've suffered a less traumatic event, which therefore you'll overcome more easily. Do you understand, baby?».

Snuggling even more tenderly in his arms the boy whispered: «Thank you, Pitch: thank you for everything you've done for me».

Moved by such gratitude the man hugged him tightly, slowly rocking him while absently combing his hair with his right hand, then he allowed himself a moment to reprocess his thoughts and get ready to continue; consoling his partner, in fact, was only the first of many steps he intended to take: a far cry from these deeds were waiting for him, much more striking and, above all, much more decisive.

After placing a little kiss on the bandage still wrapped around his forehead, to make him feel at ease and, at the same time, to catch his attention, Pitch murmured: «Oh, baby, you don't need to thank me: listening to you and consoling you was the least I could do. Helping you is my duty, I accomplish it more than gladly and I have no intention to back away, even now: that's why I'm going to proceed. What the Man in the Moon did to you is unacceptable: kidnapping you, tying you, torturing you, and even making you pregnant! Only a beast would be capable of such acts! I won't leave him unpunished, Jack: I will realize the right vengeance you can't take by yourself. I will wage war on the Moon, recalling all the Nightmares which are under my control and winding them up against him, I will smother that hateful satellite's bright light once and for all and I will violate its rooms full of hypocrisy, unleashing my most skilled and talented Purebloods to dig that disgusting being out and give him what he deserves. I'll tie to my lair's columns, just as he did with you, I will punish him with the most atrocious torture, I will make him cry for days, whole weeks, until his throat will start to bleed because of his desperate screams, I will let him pray and beg, at first for freedom, then for the coup de grace, but I will not give it to him: he made a mistake too great to deserve mercy. I will continue to scourge him, gouging out his eyes, ripping out his tongue, amputating his limbs and tearing apart his internal organs, and only when I'll see him broken and unable to understand and take action I will let his soul escape to the hell which is destined to: I will cut his head off, taking care not to remove it with a clean blow, to make sure that he'll suffer until the end, then I'll take it to you on a silver plate, and at that point we will never have to worry again about him. Are you glad to get rid of him, Jack? Is there any detail you would like to change? Something special you personally conceived?».

Frost, who, despite having always kept his eyes down, seemed to have listened carefully to every word, answered with difficulty: «Actually, yes».

Glad to see him so interested and involved the Boogeyman encouraged him: «Tell me, baby: I'll do anything to make you happy».

Jerkily raising his face up to display two irises full of anger the boy blurted out: «Everything! That's what I would like to change! Are you crazy or something? How could you even have conceived such a thing? And the plate, then, for all the storms, it makes me sick just thinking about it!».

«If you don't like that part just tell me and I'll avoid it. We don't need you to see: I myself will take care of everything, regardless, and if you don't want to look, even just to see that the matter has been finally resolved, I'll make sure to hide the corpse, so that you won't feel sick» promptly intervened the man.

«No, I do not like any part of your absurd proposal!» countered Jack; «Do you realize what you're planning? Killing the Man In The Moon, the Guardian of all the Guardians, the one who created us and who has always protected us!».

«Oh, yes, I see how well he has been protecting you for all these years!» teased him Pitch; «Let me make a brief summary: he created you to respond to his needs, he has made you working all the time, when I attacked you he remained well hidden in his satellite without lifting a finger and now, huh, what a strange fact!, he has new needs and woken up to shape yet another servant to exploit! Open your eyes, Jack! It doesn't matter that he created you, because after that he has only used you: he gave birth to you on mere whim, he left you wandering alone for three hundred years, not caring about your needs and about the fact that invisibility was almost bringing you to the brink of despair, realizing that you could have come in handy he appointed you a Guardian and made you fight me without giving you any protection, and now this! The gratitude of a son towards his father for giving him life ends when the father no longer behaves as such, and this, between you and him, happened more than three centuries ago!».

«What you're saying is not true, Pitch!» retorted the boy; «I was not created on a pure whim, but because I'd saved my sister, and if only in those three hundred years I'd been thinking a little more, or gone to ask for help to North or the others, I would have definitely discovered much more quickly what my centre was and I would have not felt so alone. It's normal that the Man In The Moon did nothing to help me about that: his task is not promoting us».

«Oh, no, of course it's not, he would be rather ridiculous wearing a skirt and high heels, intent to sponsor you at the exit of a station or in a shopping mall» quipped the Boogeyman.

He allowed few seconds to the partner to dispose of the amazement and the confusion caused by that statement, then he decided to change tactics and he asked: «Okay, Jack, do as you want: pretend that everything which happened since you were born until I defeated you had been a pure act of love by the Man in The Moon, and that he has always acted to protect you and make you feel good. Let's focus only on what happened few weeks ago: how do you explain it to me? How could a creature so good and generous decide to kidnap you, tie you, hit you and get you pregnant against your will? Oh, it's true, because we need a new Guardian, so it's more than fair forcing one already in office, moreover male and whose mission is spreading fun in the world, to carry them in his belly, mangling his abdomen to adapt it to an unnatural pregnancy and imposing him a task so serious and heavy! Fair and sensible, really! How long are you going to be an incubator for your dear father?».

«I don't know what an incubator is, but it doesn't sound to me as a great compliment: don't start to rage on me only to dissuade me or because you're angry, because you'll just annoy me! I never said that what he did were a right or a justifiable thing, but waging war is an overreaction! Whether you like it or not he is the one who oversees everything and, considering how easily today's children stop believing, the last thing we can afford is losing our guide. What do you hope to gain by killing him? Do you think that what happened will suddenly vanish? That everything will return all nice and cheerful as before? What he did cannot be erased, Pitch: cutting off his head will not make me forget his slaps».

Struck by surprise by a truth he couldn't deny the man pressed him: «So, what are you going to do? Bowing your head and submit yourself to his will?».

Jack, who, by coincidence, had just lowered his head before uttering his last words, straightened up suddenly, risking almost to hit his the chin, and exclaimed: «No, I'm not saying this! It's just... we can't do what you say. We can not, and I don't want to do, then I'll stay here».

With an exasperated tone Pitch insisted: «Oh, yes, right, you won't bow your head, you'll just stay here, waiting for the fate to fall on you. A completely different thing from being submissive, am I right? Jack, I'd very much like not to have to urge you, but I must: the more time passes, the more your belly grows, the farther the solution gets! If the Man In The Moon managed to make you pregnant he'll surely know how to bring you back to normal: it's exactly for this reason that I want to torture him before killing him. We need that, Jack, we need the one who ruined you to make you feel good again: what has been done can be undone, but only if we act decisively. You saw that being only for a short time, as you said, but I'm sure you've guessed that he's a person who reveals only what he wants and who cannot be controlled».

The boy bit his lip, his expression full of determination, but also of bewilderment and resignation, and finally he gave in and admitted: «Yes, I guessed almost from the beginning. It's because of this reason that I think it would be useless going to him: even if we politely asked him he would never help us».

«Asking politely was not my intention, in fact» insisted the Boogeyman.

At that umpteenth threat Frost snorted and, staring intently into his eyes, he said: «Pitch, stop proposing me to kill him or torture him: we can't, and that's all. Promise me that you'll not try to go to him, and that, if you happen to see him, you'll not harm him».

«Not even in your wildest dreams!» immediately snapped the man.

Seeing him resisting the boy sighed, then, showing his crystal clear irises full of sadness and concern, he murmured: «Pitch, I beg you: do it for me. By being gentle we would obtain nothing from him, by being aggressive we would obtain only accidents: he cannot be the key. Please, Pitch, please, don't go to him, don't you feel I'm afraid for you? You have no idea how powerful the Man In The Moon is, you don't know how cruel he turns, you don't imagine how sneaky he can be! If you went to him you'd never get out alive from his Palace, trust me! Please Pitch: don't leave me here alone. Don't do it».

Pitch hesitated in front of his lover's desperate expression, but he remained tense and frowning: he didn't want, he could not surrender to this reality. Accepting the partner's suffering as if nothing had happened, seeing him wasting away day after day, perceiving him withering slowly while the mangling's maker lounged about in his glittering satellite was inconceivable to him, a pain he couldn't even imagine to endure, and yet it was the real victim himself of this horrible situation to ask him to act like that, to let it go and wait for something he didn't know to come. Why, why did Jack seem so determined not to punish the man who had kidnapped and tortured him? Why did he prefer to resign himself, instead of trying to fight? Perhaps that attitude was due to the traumatic experience suffered, but there was also something else: some slap and a caress too many were not enough to break a proud and stubborn spirit as Jack's. Fear... fear: that was what he perceived in him, the determining factor, the additional and main reason which induced him to do so. It was a fear intense, dense, deep, partially irrational, but also well motivated: a fear impossible to remove, even supposing to fully exploit the black sand and the shadows' powers which always worked in these cases.

Turning his eyes towards the burning hearth the Boogeyman took few deep breaths to dampen his ardour, then he began to reflect: the fear that the other felt, in fact, was not unfounded and deserved further examinations. Although he hated beyond imagination admitting his weakness he couldn't deny one thing: if he had gone on the Moon he would have seriously risked not to get out alive. To be sincere this, rather than a belief, was a feeling: he knew he had fought against the Man In The Moon in days of yore, he vaguely remembered his own army of Nightmares involved in the attack, a fierce battle against a faceless character and the enemy's terrible, pure white rays crushing on it and reducing everything to dust, but all those memories were fuzzy, faded and so fragmentary that, every time he tried to get his thoughts in order, he struggled hard to recall them; however, belief or feeling it was, it was a real risk, which at first, however unwittingly, he had been willing to run, but which now he didn't feel like facing any more: he could accept to die, but not to disappoint his little snowflake by falling in a war that he himself had asked him not to wage.

While he delved deeper and deeper in these reasonings, studying every aspect of each of the two courses of action and getting lost in trying to compare them and judge which was the best, he suddenly had a realization and finally saw the light at the end of the tunnel: there was a third solution, less defeatist and static than the first, but also less aggressive and dangerous than the second, a passable compromise among everyone's needs, that, in truth, he had conceived from the beginning.

«Pitch? You've been thinking for a long time» pointed out Jack, hesitantly.

Blinking a little to dispel the image of the dancing flames which had become imprinted on the retina Pitch replied: «Yes, I had much to think about. I cannot make you such a promise, Jack».

Letting out a sobbing gasp the boy exclaimed: «Pitch, please, don't do this to me!».

«Let me finish!» immediately burst out the Boogeyman, not trying in any way to hold back the anger he felt; «I cannot satisfy you because the promise you're asking me is too binding. I'm a man of my word, and I have no intention of violating an oath, nor of being forced not to do the right thing in order to comply with it: what you're asking me is just too much, and you didn't even realize it. I can make a deal with you: I'll promise not to attack the Man In The Moon, but only if he doesn't hurt you. He'll be free to sit holed up in his satellite, or even to come out and visit us, but only as long as he'll keep his hands to himself and his forked tongue behind his teeth: if he makes a wrong gesture or utter a word too many the deal will fall through, and I'll take care to tear him to pieces with my bare hands».

This promise, actually, costed him much more than he was showing: not being able to take revenge, nor to vent all his anger on the ignoble person who was the cause of his lover's malaise and sadness, was a sacrifice not little for his standards; however, judging by how much the Man In The Moon had exposed himself to accomplish such a mess, it was almost certain that he would have made a wrong move again, handing him on a silver platter the opportunity to rage on him for yet another good reason, and, if the opportunity hadn't come, Pitch himself would have took care to create it by deception.

«Do you really promise?» asked Frost, the expression a bit scared while interrupting again his thoughts.

«Sure, Jack» confirmed the man; «And I'll promise you also something else: I'll free you from this belly you never wanted, whatever the cost. So far we've not found anything useful in Toothiana's library, but we examined only a small part of the tomes, not to mention all those North owns: I'm sure the answer lies somewhere among those pages, and I'll find it for you. I'll start immediately: I don't want to waste precious time».

Without further ado he shifted the boy from his lap on the mattress, standing up and straightening his robe, then he declared: «I'll go, Jack. You, instead, will just stay here: you recovered well, but you're still weak, and I don't want you neither to get a headache, nor to risk to slip and harm yourself again. Don't worry about your safety: I'll surround North's Palace with throngs of Pureblood to protect you, I'll leave here Voluptas to watch over you and assist you, and even some little Nightmares to check your health condition and keep me updated. You can sleep easy».

Jack, who had reacted with amazement to his proposal, grabbed him by the wrist and exclaimed: «No, wait! Don't...».

Readily kneeling in front of him to press a finger on his lips and hush him Pitch insisted: «Shhh, baby: don't panic. There's no need for you to worry, because it won't take long for me to find the solution: be patient just a little longer and you'll see that everything will become just a memory».

Deaf to his calls he turned and strode toward the exit, determined to put his long run well-being before the immediate one; once he reached the door he impetuously opened it, breaking into the hallway and almost risking to crush someone in his run, then, recognizing Toothiana, he narrowed his eyes and asked: «Did you remain here to eavesdrop on our conversation?».

Preening her feathers the fairy answered: «No, not at all: I arrived now to check that everything was alright. Have you talked to Jack?».

«Yes, I have. You can easily imagine how much it costs me refraining myself from destroying the Moon piece by piece with my hands, so don't make me waste my time: I need a snowglobe and your ancient tomes» sharply replied the Boogeyman.

Gobsmacked the Guardian asked: «The tomes? Now? Pitch, what are you going to do? Don't you hear Jack's calls? He needs you now more than ever, you can not leave him alone!».

Visibly annoyed the man started walking down the hall and countered: «I'd like to take him with me, but he's too weak to travel and spend hours and hours reading: I prefer him to stay here. He doesn't need me, but my help, and that's why I need the tomes: I have to find a way to free him from the belly and end this once and for all».

In a shocked tone Toothiana commented: «But you can't do this! You can't make him abort like this!».

«And who are you to state such a thing!? Don't you dare to tell me what I can or cannot do, especially about such a matter!» boomed Pitch.

Sanding in front of him to block him the fairy insisted: «Pitch, think before acting! The Man In The Moon wanted Jack to get pregnant for a reason, and getting rid of the baby will not induce him to desist, even if you succeeded in your aim he would...».

Unfortunately she never managed to conclude her speech: blinded by rage only in hearing the name of his worst enemy the Boogeyman attacked, grabbing her by the arm and pulling her towards himself, then he hissed at her: «If only the Man in The Moon will try to pry into this matter or hinder me in any way I can assure you that I'll make him rue the day he was born, and I'll do the same with you pathetic Guardians. You don't want to help me? Go ahead: I never expected anything from you. But woe to you if you try to stop me. Now move away: you're in my way».

Without using the slightest grace he tossed her to the side, not even turning when he heard her hit a shelf and tumbling to the ground; walking heavily to cover with these rhythmic thumps the myriad of conflicting thoughts and concerns which crowded his mind he entered in the Globe's hall, calling with a snap of his fingers the Pureblood he had left there to spread terror and getting in its saddle; noticing only at this moment the staff still firmly fastened to its side he grabbed it, freeing it from the dark tentacles, then he threw it to the Guardian and said: «Here it is, your precious staff you sent me to retrieve to make me waste my time. Make clear to your dear little fairies that it's better for them to shift when I come into your kingdom, because I will not hesitate for a moment to kill them if they block my way».

Limping Toothiana came out of the passage, stretching out her hands towards him and shouting in a tone of despair: «Pitch, think, think before you act! Think about what Jack really wants!».

But Pitch, at that point, was already far away, his body bent over the horse's one in order not to resist the wind, and his conscience stifled by the priorities he had imposed to himself.

The candle, which now had shrunk in to a mere stub, blew out, leaving the room in complete darkness, but Pitch didn't almost notice it: with a little effort by his pupils he could read even in those conditions, so it made no sense wasting time by looking for new matches and everything he needed to lit the chamber.

As he ran his eyes over the book's lines he was analysing a small light appeared at the end of the corridor, shining faintly on the periphery of his vision, so he raised a hand to shield himself and not to get distracted; in a short time, however, this intensified more and more, casting long shadows in the room and coming to the point to bother his ears with its irregular sizzle, and a female voice whispered: «Pitch? Are you still here?».

«I'm not a ghost, if that's what you're asking me» replied the man, easily recognizing Toothiana.

«You look like one of them, though. Do you know how long you've been in here?» asked the other.

Raising his head with difficulty the man briefly examined the imposing pile of tomes on his right, then he answered: «I don't know. Maybe two days».

The fairy heaved a tired sigh, then she told him: «No, Pitch: eight. It's been eight days since you saw the light of the sun».

«As if I needed it» weakly joked Pitch; «I don't even need the light of the candles to read: I feel comfortable in my shadows».

«Yes, I noticed it: often, when I came to replace the candles, I saw that you kept reading even if you remained in the dark. You could not need the light of the sun, or of fire, Pitch, but you definitely need the light of Jack's eyes, and he needs yours: he's been waiting for you for a whole week».

Choking back a sob the Boogeyman countered: «I cannot go back to him: I have not yet found the solution, not even a tiny clue to help us. I cannot disappoint him like this: wait a little longer. After all, except for the nostalgia, he's fine: if he had been sick my little Nightmares would have come here to tell me».

The woman sat on the table beside him, then, after taking a deep breath, she said: «Pitch, it pains me to say this, but this is not how things are. You've never received news from your little Nightmares because they fled more than five days ago, but Jack didn't feel good at all lately. He's had constant nausea, dizziness, cramps, and much more, and never once you've been at his side to help him and reassure him: he's suffering because of this situation».

«It 's the first time you reveal me this» exclaimed, albeit with a faint voice, the man.

«No, Pitch» contradicted him the other, her expression pained despite the firm tone; «I told it to you yesterday, and the day before, and even the day before that, but you never listened to me: once you shooed me, because I tried to convince you to desist from your research, another one you silenced me because you had reached a paragraph talking about a pregnancy and another one you didn't even hear me».

Stunned by this revelation, but too stubborn to give up the very important mission he felt he had, Pitch murmured: «I'm sad to hear it, but soon I'll find a solution to all this: I just have to identify the right book and everything will be fine».

Letting out a small sob Toothiana hesitated, but finally she put a hand on his shoulder and whispered: «Pitch, I beg you: don't let him suffer like this. I'm not asking you to give up the research, since you don't want to, but only to put it aside for few hours: take a little break and come to visit Jack. It will do you good, believe me: detaching a little will help you to focus better, hugging him will make the tiredness disappear and, who knows?, maybe, while talking to him, you'll discover something new and that you wouldn't have expected at first. Will you come?».

Waiting to end the paragraph he was reading before reflecting the Boogeyman titled his head, weighing the pros and cons of the proposal he had been made, and eventually he stated: «Okay, I'll come for a few hours, but I'll take with me some tomes: I'm already late, and I don't want to delay the conclusion of this question further».

Although visibly disappointed the fairy refrained herself from uttering any comment, then she allowed: «Okay, Pitch: as you wish».

Pleased to have been indulged the man stood up, grabbed few books from the table, one from the ground and a couple from the chair next to himself, then, struggling to hold them in his arms, he said: «Well, I'm ready. Do you have a snowglobe? I'd rather not risk ruining these books by riding a Pureblood».

«Yes, I have it in the other room» answered the Guardian.

Guiding him through that ancient maze's meanders she led him into a new cave, completely bare and much wider than the former, then, grabbing a North's globe, she whispered it the destination and threw it in front of herself; settling his precious burden Pitch advanced, walking through the portal's tunnel of intense scents and bright colours with a slow pace and heading towards a dark area, then, when he reached it, he found himself in the room where he had left his lover.

He spotted him immediately, lying on his back on blankets while, the arms spread and the expression worn out, he breathed slowly, visibly upset, so he commented: «Jack is sleeping and, since he has felt sick in the past days, it's better for him to rest: will take advantage of this time to continue the research».

Without waiting for an assent he put the books on a small table, retrieved the stool which stood in front of the fireplace and he got started, his forearms aching from all the pages they had turned and still had to turn, and his mind so exhausted it couldn't conceive any thoughts.

An hour had passed since Pitch had arrived in that room, and, if before his mind had seemed empty to him, in that moment he felt it completely off. Reading, between his eyes which continued to crisscross and the total inability to understand even the simplest words, had become almost impossible, holding his head with his hands in order not to fall asleep a titanic effort and breathing regularly a real torture, but he didn't give up and went on, line after line, paragraph after paragraph, jumping from one century to another in the Earth's history in search of a solution which did everything to hide itself from his gaze.

After an indeterminate time he felt something poking him, bothering him to the point he lost his place, but also partially restoring his worn out spirit, and he turned towards Voluptas, thinking the Nightmare had decided to give him a little fear to help him in the research; seeing it mildly crouched on the floor, with Toothiana lying on it, and remembering it was not able to fright, he said to himself that the little gift should have come from a Nightmare on patrol outside, so he settled the matter and continued to read.

As the seconds passed, however, that feeling of increasing power intensified, fortifying him so much it made him straighten his back bent under the weight of all the days he had been working for, and dispelled the opaque veil which had fallen over his eyes, and he smiled, pleased to be finally able to scroll through the chapters at a strong pace, but that happiness was soon cut short.

Stretching to pull herself together after her nap the fairy stood up, but she immediately jumped back frightened, pointing to a spot in front of herself and shouting: «Pitch, watch out!».

Faster than a lightning the Boogeyman turned, and what he saw filled him with horror: Jack's Pureblood, the most dangerous of all those which constituted his dark ranks, was in the room, bent over the defenceless and still asleep boy, its jaws open to show the razor-sharp teeth a hair's breadth away from his belly half uncovered and its neck arched to get ready to attack.

Screaming in despair the man stretched out his arm, freeing his power in one fell swoop and hitting the beast on the side with a crawling web of black sand tentacles: the creature, caught by surprise, swerved, whinnying in pain and bucking to free itself, while the boy woke up suddenly, raising his head and struggling to figure out what was going on; without hesitation Pitch evoked new curls of shadow, hurled them against the aggressor to destroy it, but it deftly dodged them, dissolving into a fickle fog and escaping through the chimney.

«Pitch, what happened? Why did you cast that Nightmare?» asked Frost, still confused.

Immediately the fairy rushed to support him and demanded anxiously: «Jack! Are you fine? That Nightmare was about to attack you! It didn't harm you, did it?».

Although the woman had spoken with a tone of voice rather high the Boogeyman almost didn't hear her above the hum of the thoughts which crowded his mind and, more importantly, of the one which filled it to the point it overwhelmed it: he had failed. It didn't matter that he had worked strenuously, that he had acted always thinking about his sake, that he had managed many and many times to make him happy: his little snowflake had been in danger only and solely because of him, and he had been so negligent he hadn't even noticed it. The dreaded moment had arrived: the dark powers he controlled have showed to be too devious, too treacherous, too incompatible with a carefree life, and even love turned out not to be enough to keep them at bay. He had failed, and he couldn't do anything to remedy; he had failed, and trying again would have just led him to fail again.

Trembling he stared at his lover, feeling himself drowning in those crystal clear irises he adore so much now widened, and suffocating under the weight of guilt, then he whispered: «I'm sorry for the Nightmare, Jack. I have to remedy».

He didn't wait for an answer, nor for a reproach, nor for an insult: without another single word he turned and ran into the corridor, fleeing toward a destiny he had hoped until the last could be spared to himself and barely holding back his tears, while angry calls pursued him.

HeilyNeko made another fanart for this chapter, you can find it both on AO3 and on my tumblr

I hope you liked this chapter. Feel free to leave a comment, if you want to. Next chapter will be published (hopefully) the next Friday; obviously I already translated it, and I'm waiting for my friend to check it.

NOTE: As you've probably guessed "my" Pitch doesn't remember much about his past, because the Man in the Moon has slowly erased his memories. Don't forget this detail in the next chapters ;)


	10. Chapter 10

Dear Izabelle, thank you so much for your comment! Since you're a guest I can't answer to it, but I wanted you to know I appreciated it a lot: you made my day. Milefanis-cullen, ate my answer! I'll rewrite it on Sunday T_T sorry for the delay, but tomorrow I'm not at home

**WE DON'T HAVE TO BE ALONE – CHAPTER 10**

Walking stealthily Pitch came out from the shadows and stepped into the hallway of the house he had chosen. He advanced cautiously, sliding on the floor without producing the slightest noise and deftly avoiding every obstacle, then he reached two doors decorated with children's drawings, but he passed them without any hesitation: he wasn't aiming at them; going on he arrived at the end of the passageway, where a peeling wood hid the access to a third bedroom, and there he stood, reaching out his hand to open it. It took him a few seconds to turn the handle knob, open the door just enough to creep in and close it behind himself, and at that point he stopped, holding his breath as he turned his head towards his victim.

He had chosen them with great care, just like all those who had preceded them in the three days of big game just passed: he was making something special, something he had never done before, and to carry it out he needed special people, like her. She was a girl of Irish descent, the freckles clearly visible on her cheeks despite the bad light and the red hair untidily abandoned on the pillow; a girl with delicate features, the drawn face perfectly proportioned to the thin neck and the arms so slender to show every tendon; a girl lean and emaciated, too big for the bed in which she slept, and too small for the responsibilities she had decided to bear.

It was enough, for the Boogeyman, to briefly look around to recall the long months of agony she had experienced: although she had endeavoured in every way to cover the walls with the drawings her four brothers had made for her, on them there were still imprinted the small dents happened during the countless times when her father had shoved her, the blood stain he had made her lose after brutally beating her, and the hole which, in a fit of rage, he had opened with a punch. The man had witnessed several times the abusive parent's outbursts, shamelessly taking the opportunity to feed himself on fear fit to burst while he reflected on the human spirit's volubility, and he had never been worried about the submissive attitude of the colleen, who, instead of reacting, merely raised her arms to protect her face; it was precisely for this reason that, at her eighteenth birthday, he had been greatly surprised to see her taking the lead on that issue. Like every Mondays' night he had crept into the house, ready to enjoy the unemployed father's umpteenth outburst on his blameless daughter, but instead of finding her knelt on the floor, intent on taking all the punches and kicks without whining and doing anything in order to prevent that monster to torture also her little siblings, he had seen her shoving with decision the drunk parent, literally throwing him down the entry's steps and tossing a suitcase after him; albeit amazed, however, Pitch had waited her to fall asleep, keeping the usual Nightmare ready to ensure himself a restoring night, but with great disappointment he had verified that this no longer worked with her, and he had had to leave her empty-handed; too stubborn to give up he had then spied on her, making one of his servants heel her to study her every move, and in the end he had solved the mystery: she had done nothing but suffer her father's brutalization, attracting all his rage on herself and never contacting the authorities, just to avoid the risk her brothers could end up in different foster families, being separated, and she had waited to rebel when she had been certain to have the legally required age to take care of them all ¹. Obviously the situation, albeit better than before, had remained tense for the young woman, always busy in devising new ways to look after her siblings, to serve them nutritious meals and to meet all the expenses, and the Boogeyman hadn't taken much to modify the black sand he commanded, so as to adapt it to the changes in his victim: now he perfectly knew what chords to touch and what to avoid, and he was determined to take full advantage of that information.

With a soft gesture he opened a portal of darkness into the wide open cabinet's shade, shuddering at the current of cold air which it generated, then he turned, holding out his arms to welcome the one he had evoked; he didn't have to wait for long: after few seconds a shadow darker than the others stirred in the midst of that teeming tentacles, quivering and vibrating, as if it was settling down, and finally what turned out to be a beautiful Pureblood in full of its powers emerged.

With his irises shining with expectation the man watched it moving forward in a hesitant pace, slowly stepping back to leave it a better view of the room and, at the same time, induce it to enter, and he rejoiced when he noticed the absence of the mane and the double pointed beaks which adorned the corners of its lips: only a Haunter answer these two characteristics, and a Haunter was exactly what he needed in order not to fail.

Seeing that the creature still hesitated he bent his fingers to invite it and, trying to control his voice, he ordered: «Come».

Hearing the call the animal moved, finally coming out the portal and looking around to familiarize with its surroundings, and, as soon as it spotted the girl lying on the bed, he snorted, dilating his nostrils and opening his mouth in an eerie imitation of a smile; without further ado it stamped a hoof, clearly intending to crouch in order to pounce on her, but Pitch quickly stopped it, rising in front of it and drawing its neck in a lustful embrace.

«Hush, my beauty, hush» he whispered directly into its ear, stroking its jugular to calm it down; «I know you can't wait to pounce on that pathetic girl and devour her, but these matters need patience: if you attack her without thinking you'll go hungry. Let me give some advices to you: I studied her for months and months, and now I know perfectly what manages to scare her enough to get her out of his mind. Don't you think that something is missing in this house? Don't you feel the total absence of adults around? This is not a temporary situation: she's alone, the only guardian of four children. Her mother fled away years ago, chasing yet another lover she had been duped by, while his father has moved away a few months ago. He didn't left in a fit of madness: he did it out of exasperation. After more than a decade of loving care given to his children, in fact, he lost his job and they began to despise him, calling him "failure", insulting him whenever he came home without having found a new employment and complaining about the pocket money cut which he had imposed to them for obvious reasons and which prevented them from buying all the toys they wanted. He has endured the situation for about five months, then he couldn't handle it any more and he decided to leave his ungrateful offspring: pretending he had found and accepted a job abroad which would have allowed them to live comfortably he took leave, promising to send them part of his salary, then he went away without ever looking back. At first the children believed him and lived it up behind him, but after some weeks passed without receiving from him neither news, nor, least of all, his money, they started to get scared. This girl, who's the eldest of the five, took-charge of her brothers in order not to risk seeing them being separated and sent to different families, but soon she realized she's not up to the task: the work she started is not profitable enough to sustain such a large family, and the account assigned to her where the parent had deposited a sum to allow her go to college has almost dried up. Among all them she's the one who most hopes that her father, sooner or later, will come back, and that he escaped only to prove them that, without his presence, they are not able to survive: you must play on this. Kill her hope, fling the truth at her, obsessively show her her father fleeing and abandoning her until she beg you to stop, and then go on, rage on her, picture him elsewhere with a new family, intent on having fun while he forgets his past, and display her the sad future which awaits her and her brothers: make her cry and squirm from the pain of this truth she doesn't want to accept. Good luck, my beauty».

With an impatient snort the Pureblood bowed his head in front of Pitch, out of gratitude and respect, but when it saw his master opening his arm to allow it acting it didn't need to be asked twice: with a grim neigh it reared up, arching its neck in order not to lose sight of its goal, then it lunged at her, covering in a single bound the distance which separated it from the bed and landing on it with the forelegs. After it had settled down its hooves on the mattress and slightly bent its legs to have a better balance it crouched over the victim, sniffing her stomach, her breast and finally her neck, to begin to weaken her defences just with its mere presence, and seeing her shivering it opened its mouth, placing itself literally in front of her face and spreading its jaws even more to completely cover it, as if to devour it in one bite.

Well aware of what was happening Pitch hastened to support his creature, stroking its side while it was absorbing from the girl those few, very recent memories it needed to reconstruct her father's features and voice, then he rested his cheek on its shoulder and, closing his eyes, he immersed himself in its conscience, in order to better guide it in what it had to do and not to miss any scene of the show he had planned.

After a few seconds he saw again appearing in front of himself the bedroom, but with less details, less definition, few colours apart from black and grey, and less depth: it was not the real room, but the nightmare's embryo the beast was making, and still required several mendings. Moving his hands in sinuous gestures the Boogeyman began to fix it, adding details and nuances where necessary, correcting the errors, and even recreating the main corridor, then he stepped aside, leaving to his servant full liberty of action, but continuing to whisper advices to it in a low voice.

In less than a minute he heard heavy footsteps coming from the passage, and saw out of the corner of the eye the colleen waking up with a start, sit up and start looking around warily.

«Who's there?» she shouted in a firm voice.

No answer came to their ears, but after a few moments the father's figure appeared at the door, proud and almost solemn in his solemn stateliness, but with a sardonic smile on his face.

«You? You're back?» she asked, incredulous.

«Yes and no. I'm back, but not to stay. I forgot some important documents when I left, and now I need to recover them: once I've taken them back I'll forsake you again, and this time for good» said with satisfaction the parent.

«There is nothing yours left in this house, so you can immediately turn your heels and go» replied the young woman.

Clearly taken aback the father gasped, clutching the jamb, as if he needed a support to stand, and catching his breath; shortly after, however, he recovered, and with a cruel grin on his face he barked: «Sheridan, you live up to your name: you've always been wild, and wild you'll remain! I left you to punish your irreverent behaviour, but I see it was all for nothing: you have not learned to pay respect to me even after you've realized I'm indispensable. Do you think that, by continuing to walk all over me, you'll manage to entice me to reverse my decision, perhaps driven by some kind of guilt? No, it will not happen: I will leave you alone, and without me you'll end soon in the gutter».

«Indispensable?» demanded the colleen; «Indispensable? Is that how you like to call yourself now? Was it indispensable for us seeing you coming home drunk every night? Was it indispensable for the babies hearing you screaming and smashing the furniture almost every evening? Was it indispensable for Phelan, who's already thin, watching you stealing the food from his plate at every meal? Was it indispensable for me to be beaten every day? No, none of this was indispensable. I'll admit it, I'm struggling to sustain the family without your salary, but, actually, it has been like that since you've lost your job, with the only difference that now, at least, I don't see the little money I gain disappearing in bottles of wine. I have to make many sacrifices to be able to buy the medicines for the twins, and I'm often forced to serve only rice and beans for dinner, but the babies are much more serene and happier than before and they help me as best as they can: now we are a real family. I'm sorry, father, but you are not indispensable: we live better without you. It pains me to say this, because, although you've always been severe, I know that you loved us, but now you've changed, and I can no longer let you harm me and the others. Get out of here, father. Get out of my life, and get out of my dream: I'm not afraid of you any more».

With a sharp sound Pitch was thrown back, expelled from the dream to return to reality, and he realized he was still beside the bed, gasping and bewildered by the sudden change of perspective; instinctively he clung to the Pureblood, looking for a firm support to rely on to recover, but, as soon as he touched its side, he heard it bucking and neighing in pain, and when he turned he found himself in front of a show as wonderful as terrible: the beast was dying.

Miserably defeat by its own victim it paid the mistake with its life, disintegrating in thin rivulets of fine sand which branched off from every spot of its body, stroking it gently before falling to the ground, but consuming it, slowly corroding every muscle and tendon like an acid erodes the metal; enchanted the Boogeyman stared at his servant in decline, letting the black sand now unusable cover himself, grasping the last spark of life burn out in those eyes of flame no more eternal, and hearing the desperate neighs being stifled by the creaking of the bones become as fragile as gypsum, and when these fell apart, rolling on the sheets and vanishing into the darkness, he couldn't endure any longer.

Feeling his strength failing he fell, slipping to the ground without a lament and collapsing sprawled against the dresser, careless of the awkward position he had taken, because the pain he felt in the chest was so stabbing he couldn't perceive anything else, then, panting with difficulty, he brought a hand to his heart, sinking his fingers into the shoulder just to relieve the aches, and he opened his mouth in a vain attempt to catch his breath.

After a few seconds he felt the girl stirring and sitting up, so he looked up and found her just turned toward him, but he noticed immediately that her eyes had something strange, and it didn't take long to him to figure out what's going on: she were no longer able to see him. The man was able to catch every single shade of those beautiful green irises veined with copper and gold, but these didn't linger on his dark figure, passing over, through his flesh to stare at the drawer's knob which was stabbing him and then sliding careless on other details of the room, to check that everything was in place: now Pitch had become invisible to the wild Sheridan, and he would have had to work hard and for long to hope to feed himself again on her fear.

An acute sob shook the Boogeyman's chest, making him start against the piece of furniture and jabbing even more those wooden sharp edges in his back, and his expression got deformed into a grimace of pure pain, but when his mouth opened what came out was a loud, sick and gurgling laughter: he had won. Oh, it had been so easy deceiving that Haunter, exploiting his own sensuality and authority to convince it to listen to him and flattering it with compliments and caresses to induce it to lower his guard, so simple rehashing the information in his possession, retaining the general characteristics in order not to be discovered, but making small changes to some details to distort them completely, so incredibly natural seeing it being consumed like a flash in the pan: now he had lost count of the Purebloods he had destroyed, driven to an involuntary suicide by the lies he had whispered in their ears, and he didn't encounter the slightest difficulties in accomplishing this self-imposed task. He was perfectly able to control his own thoughts, closing those concerning his plans in the dark recesses of his own consciousness, out of the reach of anyone but himself, and he expertly manipulated his servants' minds and moves: he would have soon be able to eradicate this horrible species, recalling every adult individual to wipe it from the face of the Earth in a light breeze, and at that point Jack would have been safe from the Nightmares.

A pang took his breath away at the memory of what had happened to his little snowflake just three days before, assailed by the infernal beast just when he was completely helpless and defenceless, and just when he was in one of the safest places in the world, and Pitch couldn't help but feel himself drowning in guilt again: he had been the one who had created the monster, the one who had refined its technique, the one who had lost sight of it, the one who hadn't spotted the danger, the one who had failed in destroying it. He had been the one who had made a mistake, the one who had awkwardly remedied to it, the one who posed a threat for his mere presence: he should no longer allow himself to dare, to stay close to the boy with the risk that the shadows could attack him again, nor he could let his most fearsome servants free to roam everywhere.

While he confused brush up on the project he had conceived while fleeing away from North's Palace, a very slight hum reached his ears, piercing and more and more intense, and he gasped, looking around to find a hiding place; discarding the cabinet, which, albeit comfortable, was much too far from him, he opted for the bed and, leaving himself literally fall on the floor, he began to crawl, painfully dragging his tired body.

Driven by the strength born of desperation he managed to reach the dark refuge, burrowing himself as best as he could among the boxes, the books and the other objects crammed under there, and while he was still settling down Baby Tooth burst into the room, taking advantage of the air passage to get around the closed door.

Trying to keep self-control the man froze, concentrating on the sound produced by the unwanted visitor's wings to understand where she was and in which direction she was turned to, and only when he was certain she had reached the other side room he dared to withdraw the foot, the only limb still uncovered; holding his breath he patiently wait for her to summarily rummage in every corner, slowly opening the palm to release the little magic sand left and wrap it around himself as a protection, and he nearly fell into a panic when he perceived her grab the blanket and pull it to browse even under the bed, but luckily for him the fairy contented himself with a quick peek, after which she flew away faster than a hummingbird.

Heaving a deep sigh of relief Pitch relaxed, but he still didn't dare to come out of the hiding place: Toothiana's little helper had clearly entered in there to look for him, and it was possible that she was lurking somewhere to surprise him, or that, more simply, she was still studying other areas of the house. What brought him to this conclusion was not only the absence of a plausible reason, for a creature who collected milk teeth, to pay a visit to an eighteen years old girl, but also the certainty he was wanted by the Guardians: these, in fact, had been hot on his heels right away, chasing him relentlessly over the three days which had passed since his escape and exploiting all their powers to find him. Such obstinacy was more than understandable to the Boogeyman, considering that Jack had seriously risked to die because of the accident of which he and only he had been the cause, and he would have gladly given himself to them and let himself being punished for that terrible default, but he couldn't do it now, not when so many Purebloods still wandered free in the world: he had to be sure to kill them before paying for its own negligence.

After he had carefully kept an eye out and made sure that no living being, apart from Sheridan and his four brothers, had lingered in that house, the man groaned, shifting with his foot a small wooden chest behind which he had got stuck and starting to crawl out of that uncomfortable refuge; after a tiring minute of pushing and puffing he finally managed to emerge and climb on the dresser, in order to avoid the risk of falling because of a lightheadedness, then he limped to the window to observe the neighbourhood, and what he saw astonished him.

Every street and house he could see had been literally invaded by swarms of chirping fairies, every field and garden was full of coloured eggs in motion, the night sky was lit by the innumerable creatures of golden sand's contrails, and in those few areas which seemed forgotten roamed patrols of Elves and even some lonely Yetis: evidently the Guardians were more hardened than he expected and they had decided to exploit their helpers to carry on the hunting.

Sighing heavily Pitch slumped against the shutter's frame: there was finally explained Voluptas' delay, that, despite being called more than two hours earlier, hadn't still showed up. As the intelligent creature it was it probably had not encountered difficulties in leaving the Palace, taking advantage of a little moment of distraction to slide away along secondary corridors, or exploiting the element of surprise and starting to gallop even before those present could realize what it was doing, but once outside it shouldn't have had it easy: simultaneously monitoring the sky and the ground was complex even for a beast as smart as it, and hiding its body, slender but equally impressive, had no doubt forced it to move with caution and significantly lengthen the path to get around the most dangerous areas. In the light of this the Boogeyman regretted not having stopped his transfers, finally realizing that he had confused his horse and compelled it to continuous double backs, but he dispelled his guilt in few seconds: continuing to search victims to destroy his Pureblood have the priority over everything, even on the welcoming of his favourite, and in the end having to mount the same Nightmares he wanted to kill had helped him to further improve his self-control.

At this point, however, he could no longer postpone the meeting, so he looked around to find a good place to wait for it; after a few minutes e spotted a tract of bushland particularly dark, which the group of hunters had already summarily combed, and he decided it was suitable for his purpose. Hobbling he reached the door, levered on the hinges to open it without letting it creak and he walked down the corridor, heading for the kitchen; manoeuvring among the chairs pushed aside and the children's schoolbags ready for the next morning he proceeded towards the exit, raising his robe in order not to get wet while he stepped over the dishwasher's open door and then flattening against the curtain to peek through its laces' holes; finally, sure the way was clear, he turned the handle and went out.

After cautiously descending the steps leading to the lawn he darted into the grass, dissolving himself only partially in order to glide more easily from shadow to shadow without getting tired, then, following at first a hedge and then a long fence, he managed to proceed smoothly up to the grove he was aiming to.

He stayed there, crouched between a rock and a wild boxwood, for an indefinite time, rather long, considering how the stars had moved throught the sky, but as short as a blink of an eye for his mind completely blank, but in the end a faint patter woke him from the slumber into which he had fallen. Raising his head over the foliage behind which he was hidden he glimpsed Voluptas walking solemnly among the logs in all its majestic beauty, but he didn't linger to admire it: he was far too tired to indulge in ecstatic observations, but, above all, far too overburdened by more important tasks.

Crawling under the fronds he got next to it, clung to its mane and, staring into its wide, golden eyes without pupils, he whispered: «Good, Voluptas. Have you struggled to reach me, haven't you? There's no road, around here, which isn't full of the Guardians' servants: you have been very good to get there without being glimpsed by them. Now you'll have to bring me in a small village on the west coast, the one perched on the cliff and with the row of coloured stilts on the beach, do you remember it? Right there. Now bend your legs a little, honey: I'm too tired to climb on your back».

Without rebelling or snorting the beast obeyed, bending its legs and pushing its nose on Pitch's backside to help him up, and this, albeit more awkwardly than usual, finally managed to get into the saddle. While he was still settling down, however, he heard heavy footsteps coming from a point behind him, and he exclaimed in a low voice: «We've been discovered! Let's get out of here!».

Without further ado he dug his heels into the horse's side, causing it to start at full gallop with a loud whinny, and this was the warning signal to all the hunters who were in the vicinity: the whole neighbourhood woke up, echoing with acute tweets grunts, bell trills and delicate ticks, and all these noises began to converge towards the woods. Spurring the Pureblood to a mad rush the Boogeyman guided it, deftly dodging every obstacle and log, and taking care to stay away from the hiss which announced the arrival of the Guardians' helpers, but soon he realized he had been surrounded and, unable to escape in the sky, where Sandman's golden sand was gathering more and more to floodlight the forest, he had to surrender and retreat.

Stretching out his arm he evoked a large amount of black sand, as much as he could recall in those few seconds which separated success from failure, then it threw it to a narrow fissure he had spotted among the rocks in front of himself and urged Voluptas to leap into it.

Not frightened at all the creature dashed into the crack, jumping to enter where it was larger, and when it landed it found itself in the main hall of Pitch's lair, on a narrow, raised platform well-hidden behind a giant stalactite.

Cautiously leaning out the Boogeyman saw that also that cave had been invaded, controlled on top by a small flock of fairies and on the bottom by very organized cohorts of eggs, but he didn't get worried: he had expected from the beginning a troop of guards, and, since he was in a place he was familiar with, he knew exactly how to evade the surveillance.

Before deciding what to do he tried to find the iron Globe, willing to study it in order to assess which part of the world visit, but when he saw a dozen Elves busy on climbing on it to play he had to admit defeat: those small creatures moved around continuously, preventing him from having a clear view of the lights which adorned it, and there was no way to shoo them without being noticed.

Feeling now exhausted the man decided to take a short break, just a few hours of rest to recover his strength and hope that Santa's helpers could find a diversion less annoying and hampering the mission he had imposed to himself, so, albeit reluctantly, he turned his horse and made it walk down a flight in ruins. Deftly avoiding any prying eyes he managed to reach a hidden entrance, proceed without problems through the maze of corridors which appeared in front of him and seal every opening with special spells, then he got into his bedroom, dismounted and collapsed on the mattress.

He remained in that position for some time, one arm hanging down and his face buried in the cold blanket which now didn't have any scent, trying not to think about anything except for rehearsing what were the most suitable houses to visit, but after a whole minute of continuous memory lapses he resigned and whispered: «I need to sleep, Voluptas. Stand guard for a few hours, then wake me: I don't want to risk losing too much time».

After making sure that the Pureblood had understood the command, nodded and taken position in front of the entrance, the man sighed, turning on a side to breathe more easily, then he closed his eyes and fell immediately into a deep sleep.

«Wake up!» shouted a loud voice.

Wincing with fear Pitch opened his eyes, instinctively trying to sit up to look around, but, as soon as he raised his back, he felt something grab him by the neck and drag it back down; stunned he rolled his eyes, trying to familiarize with his surrounding, and what he saw left him speechless: he was in the centre of a large, circular room, the floor of stone adorned with runes arranged in concentric circles that which faded in the darkness, and heavy chains were tied to his limbs, considerably restricting his movements and forcing him into an uncomfortable crouching position.

While he was still trying to work it out he saw North, Sandman and Bunnymund emerging from the shadows and he exclaimed: «You!? You found me?».

«Don't you say?» scornfully asked the Pooka; «It took us a bit, but in the end we succeeded: we could have never allowed you to get away. Tooth, show him what he has missed, and make sure not to omit anything».

A vibrant wings' whirr announced the Boogeyman that Toothiana was behind him, but before he could even think to react he sensed her land next to his head and press her hands on his temples, and in that moment his sight went black.

While he arched to escape her grip he perceived also the other senses failing, leaving him in a state of absolute vulnerability and causing him to fall into a panic, but just when he feared he was about to go crazy a little light appeared in the distance, trembling a little, and then exploding in thousands of brilliant sparks. When he finally managed, a little by waiting and a little by blinking, to make the dazzling stain which had been impressed on the retina fade away, the man realized he was in his room at North's Palace, heated, as usual, by a crackling fire, and it took no time to him to find Jack lying sprawled on the blankets.

«Jack! Are you... how are you...?» he asked hesitantly.

The boy, however, ignored him, staring at the ceiling while hot tears run down his cheeks, and a few seconds later he had a spasm: pressing one hand on his stomach and one on his he mouth let out a heavy hiccup, then he lept down the mattress, grabbing a metal basin and leaning on it to vomit, while violent tremors shook his bony shoulders; before Pitch could reach him, however, he stood up, his eyes still full of tears, but his mouth perfectly clean, and he began to limp towards his lover, holding a bump far more bulky than the one he had until few moments before.

While the Boogeyman stared at him, puzzled, trying to understand the reason of the sudden change, he saw Frost stumbling and lose his balance and he lunged towards him to catch him, but just when he was sure he had him in his arms he distinctly felt him passing through himself, piercing it as he was made of air and violently falling on the floor, and he understood: this was not the reality, but the memory of an event already happened, and he, who had not been present at that time, had no way to change it, nor to interact with the characters in it.

With a suffering grimace on his face he turned and looked at the boy standing up by leaning against the bed's frame, feeling a pang every time he lost his grip and slid again to the ground and holding back a moan when he saw him giving up and starting to crawl; after few feet, however, this slumped again, wrapping his arms around his belly shook by contractions while screaming all its pain, and Pitch almost fainted when he heard him desperately asking for assistance and not receiving any answer: he had never felt so guilty in his entire life

Just when he was about to leap forward and try anyway to do something the scene faded, gliding into a new one set in the same place, but with two main characters: Jack sitting on a stool, and a small, faceless human being nestled on his lap.

«Where's Daddy?» asked the latter in a childish tone.

Pitch saw the boy's face clouding over, overwhelmed by sadness while he was probably looking for a plausible excuse to justify the absence of a figure so important, but just when his lips parted a violent tug brought him back into the room decorated with ancient symbols, and North blurted out: «Do not sweeten the pill, Tooth, he must know stained with guilt he is!».

After pushing away the fairy Santa Claus firmly grasped the chain tied around the Boogeyman's neck, pulling it up to tear it off the floor, then he did the same with those which trapped his wrists and ankles; without giving him time to recover he intertwined together the three connected to the upper part of his body, wrapping them around his forearm and dragging him on the ground, therefore, reached the outside, he threw them down and said: «Here, look at what you've done: look at your default's result».

Disentangling himself in that pile of metal rings and limbs bent in unnatural positions the man finally managed to turn around, and when he did he froze on the spot: in front of him loomed a small gravestone, and on it, under two little snowflakes, it was written: "Here lie forever Jack Frost and the child he has never been able to give birth to".

Unable to keep his self-control in front of a scene so annihilating Pitch screamed with all the strength he had, expressing the pain and despair he felt in a lament so sharp and strident to hurt even his own eardrums, and so shattering it didn't stop even when he managed to wake up, sitting up and emerging suddenly from that terrible nightmare. As soon as he realized he was still in his room, stiff and shivering on the bed completely drenched in sticky cold sweat and with his chest shaken by sobs, Voluptas came to his aid, going next to him and lovingly licking his left cheek, and he took heart a little: all the terrible visions he had had were just a bad dream, and they had never happened, or, rather, they hadn't happened yet.

Fallen prey to a blind fear the Boogeyman grabbed the Pureblood's muzzle, forcing it to bend down to stare into its eyes, then he stammered: «Voluptas! Voluptas, you're here... Jack... Jack is... I've been an idiot, an idiot! How could I abandon him? For three days I haven't heard anything about him, I would have had to keep an eye on him, check him from afar to see how he was! I cannot leave him like this, I had promised to help him, to make that belly he never wanted disappear, and yet I still haven't done anything: I have to go back, I have to see in what state he is and retrieve new tomes to read! I'll observe him without showing up, and I'll continue to destroy my Purebloods to make sure they couldn't hurt him, but I have to keep my promise before disappearing forever from his life: I cannot risk to let him suffer because of me, neither with my presence, nor with my negligence. Let's not waste time: bring me to him».

After rubbing his sweaty hands on the blanket, in order to avoid the risk of slipping, the man hugged Voluptas' neck, accepting more than willingly the help which had been quietly offered to him to stand up, then he climbed onto the mattress and, not without difficulty, he slid his right leg over the animal's rump, clinging to his mane to pull himself into the saddle. Without farther ado he spurred the horse, making it advance at a trot along the corridor and gradually dissolving the various protection spells he had previously raised, but when, at a crossroads, he guided it to the right, this put its hooves down, snorting and pulling towards the other direction.

Struggling against its stubbornness Pitch exclaimed, his voice cracked: «Voluptas, please, it's not the right time to throw a tantrum, we must go, we must take the corridor to the exit without being discovered... Voluptas!».

The reproaches, the threats and the tugs served no purpose: the Pureblood didn't want to obey the commands, and in fact, blatantly ignoring its rider, he walked along the other passage; too tired to fight the Boogeyman gave up, consoling himself with the fact that, albeit decidedly more uncomfortable, even this second route was safe to leave the lair without being noticed, and he dropped the reins, letting the rebel beast have its way.

After about a minute the two came out in a small cave, at the end of which, illuminated by the moon, was visible a narrow shaft leading to the surface, and the man blurted out: «Now tell me, how will we climb this? I was driving you in the opposite direction just to arrive at a most comfortable exit and avoid wasting my powers in unnecessary stunts!».

Visibly annoyed he dismounted, going right towards the duct to assess, in order to go up it, whether it was more convenient dematerializing themselves or evoke a platform of magic sand, and when he noticed a figure slumped on its bottom rolled his eyes and snorted: he had now lost count of the animals fallen down there, dying from their wounds or from starvation, and the mere idea of having to move yet another rotting corpse to clear a path filled him with disgust.

Praying it were an individual with horns or, at least, dead very recently, Pitch approached it, but soon, in the midst of the dry leaves which covered its body, he spotted a blue strip: a decidedly unnatural colour for a wild animal's fur. With anxiety growing in his chest he rushed towards that not identified pile, fell on his knees and started to dig, and in less than a second he found exactly what he feared most.

«Jack!» he shouted in a voice cracked with panic.

The boy, who had let himself being uncovered and embraced without a lament, turned the head dirty with mud and dust with difficulty, and he took a moment to allow his bloodshot eyes to focus on what was in front of himself, but when succeeded he brighten up and whispered: «Pitch... I knew you'd have come back...».

Trying to ignore the pain he felt the Boogeyman pulled him even closer to himself to observe him, checking with his irises if he had visible injuries and stroking him with the palm to see if he had suffered internal lesions, but when he arrived at his abdomen he stiffed: the little belly which had grown, much more swollen than it was when he had left him and always pleasantly warm, was as cold as ice.

Half closing his eyes to focus better the Man in the Moon leaned over the magic water's basin through which he could see everything, he moved his hand to recall the moonbeam he had used to illuminate Jack and then he whispered: «Oh, Pitch, Pitch, you've changed so much: I struggle to recognize you, and yet I find you more and more familiar».

Light footsteps accompanied by a slight metallic clang interrupted his trail of thoughts, inching closer along a secondary corridor, and when they got by his side a manly voice, but not particularly deep, said: «I've done what you ordered me, my lord: I moved Jack's staff on the top of a ridge which is visited only by small animals and I have instructed some moonbeams to guard him. If any child will dare to climb up there I will move it anywhere in no time. Do you need anything else?».

Without troubling himself to turn around the man smiled and murmured: «Very well. Come here and watch with me: the prodigal son is coming home».

Obeying without any hesitation the interlocutor reached him, placed a hand so white to seem shining in its own light on the base made of stone, in order not to lose balance, and leaned forward, peering closely at the liquid's surface; holding his breath to avoid rippling it, he stared at it for a long time, following with his eyes the image of Pitch wrapping Jack in a blanket, rushing up the shaft and then hastily jumping into Voluptas' saddle, and he commented: «He looks pretty worried».

«Oh, he is» replied the master of the house; «Jack is very weak, he fell for seventy feets before landing at the bottom of that shaft, and his belly is as cold as a piece of ice: he has every reason to be worried».

Wincing the other asked: «Did something happen to the baby?».

«No, no» promptly reassured him the Man In The Moon; «I would never let them die, especially for a stupid reason. Actually Jack's belly it is as hot as ever inside: I just cooled a little his skin».

«It was you!?».

«Yes» simply replied the man.

Perceiving a turmoil in his subordinate he turned to look at him, briefly examining his armour of steel and white gold and the spear he always carried around, then he remarked: «You look worried: do you have something to ask me?».

The warrior hesitated a long time before speaking, the light grey irises restlessly roaming along the floral decorations which adorned the pedestal next to which he stood, but in the end he managed to gather the courage and asked: «My lord, don't you think you overdid it?».

Raising an eyebrow to show all his perplexity and hide the annoyance that that question had caused him the master of the house ordered: «Explain yourself».

Taking a deep breath the other explained: «You forced Jack to give birth to the new Guardian without giving him any choice, you tied him up and beat him, you made him fertile in an almost traumatic way, you've been aggravating the symptoms of pregnancy and obstructed his every action, you never stepped forward to help him or Pitch to deal with the situation, and now this... isn't it too much? Wouldn't it have been better explaining them clearly what the world needs, or at least avoid raging on two creatures who were already suffering?».

«Since when did you start to become compassionate towards Pitch, huh, Nightlight?» mocked him the Man in the Moon; «The last time you met him you haven't been very understanding with him, or maybe you've already forgotten the battle we fought centuries ago? It's not time for mercy, nor for patience or affectation: it's time for action, and in order to achieve what we need we must be determined and resolute».

Coming at attention Nightlight answered: «I beg your pardon, my lord: I've been a fool. It's obvious that you've been thinking long and hard about how to move, and that you've well weighed the decisions and actions to be taken: I will never doubt you any more. I take my leave: it's nearly the time to check out the pools to extract the new moonbeams. For any requests, do not hesitate to call me».

After a deep bow the boy walked away without waiting for an answer, but the man didn't scold him: he was well aware that it was better not to delay too much the release of the new moonbeams, and, anyway, he knew that the other felt towards him solely and exclusively respect.

When she saw him entering the corridor, however, a shade of sadness crossed his face and he called out: «Nightlight!».

The other quickly turned, stepping forward to better show himself to his sight, and asked: «Yes, my lord?».

Firmly staring into his eyes the master of the house said: «There is a reason behind my actions: a very important reason, which is not the personal entertainment. For now I haven't yet explained much, because I've been busy growing the baby and keeping an eye on the situation, but soon I'll tell you everything and you'll finally understand. Do not betray me, Nightlight: stay close to me».

«I would never betray you, my lord, nor I would ever leave your side, for no reason at all» promptly assured the warrior.

After nodding the Man In The Moon dismissed him with a gesture, carefully following his light footsteps receding down the corridor, and when he was certain he had finally gone away he let out a deep and suffering sigh, turning with difficulty to peer the revealing water.

¹ In Italy the required age to officially gain the permission to take care of your young siblings is eighteen years old

I hope you liked this chapter! Feel free to leave a comment, if you want to. Next chapter will be published on the next Friday. Have a nice evening


	11. Chapter 11

**WE DON'T HAVE TO BE ALONE – CHAPTER 11**

If only it had been someone else, Pitch, no doubt, would have split his sides laughing: it was exceedingly ridiculous how often misfortunes of every kind had come upon him, and enormously exhilarating the insistence with which he insisted on getting into trouble, as like as the ease with which he managed to create all sorts of problems. Oh, how much he would have sneered if in that situation he had found a pathetic human being, or better yet Bunnymund, bent over with laughter as he couldn't look away from the show of his slow decline, act by act until the epilogue, as in a splendid play... but though he tried to draw any other fulfilling fantasies, the reality in front of him did nothing but overwhelm it and destroy it: the unfortunate was not any character, but his little snowflake, every single fall and injury suffered was likely to be the last and the Boogeyman couldn't even laugh at the irony of fate, bent over with pain as he struggled to keep the boy's eyes opened.

Choking back with difficulty a sob he thickened the blanket of darkness in which he had enveloped his lover, fastening a corner over his shoulder to protect his face by the gusts of wind, then he leaned toward him and asked: «Jack, can you hear me? I know you're so tired, but you must not close your eyes, do you understand? Continue to look at me and do not close your eyes! Let's talk a little together: are you comfortable? Do you feel cold? I covered your head to protect you, but if that's not enough I can do more: you just need to ask».

In response the boy trembled, the irises which continually threatened to roll back, and eventually he turned his face toward him, sinking it in his triceps.

«No, Jack, no!» exclaimed the man, trying in every way not to show the panic he felt in order not scare him; «You must not close your eyes, do you remember? You don't want me to do the whole trip on my own while you sleep, huh, baby? You are the Guardian of Fun, I'm sure you wouldn't like to know that I got bored! Did you guess where we're going?».

With a groan Frost raised the eyelids again, clinging with the strength born of desperation to his partner's collar to stay awake, then he stammered: «Home?».

Moved by the other's efforts Pitch dropped the reins and passed also his right arm around his chest, trusting in Voluptas' intelligence and sensitivity to continue the ride while holding his lover's head, then he lifted him a little to spare him painful jerks and whispered: «I'm sorry, you got wrong. No home for now: you need heat and light, and in my lair there's neither of them. I'm taking you to North's baths: do you like it? The steam will help you breathe better, the hot water will warm you up and I'll give you everything you want: cuddles, massages, a nice scented bath, everything you're like receiving. Everything, Jack: just keep your eyes open for me. We're almost there: hold on, baby».

Compulsively stroking his left cheek and his hair, both to reassure him and to prevent him from dozing off, the Boogeyman dared to look up for a moment, sweeping the horizon with his eyes to check it, and he felt his heart skip a beat when he recognized the mountain chain whose peaks North's Palace was hidden among: the Pureblood had been good at galloping, taking advantage of the faster currents and of all its power to move at breakneck speed while not tossing its riders, and now the destination wasn't that far. As if reading his thoughts the horse whinnied, turning slightly to the right and starting to descend, and the man, who had immediately noticed the faint cloud of steam which rooted at the foot of a glacier, exclaimed: «Here we are, Jack! Are you ready to land?».

No answer came to his ears, but he had no possibility to check whether this had never been uttered or if it had simply got lost in the wind: among the blinding glare of the snow, the blanket of fog and the chaos of warm currents ascendant alongside others, cold, descendants, it was not easy at all finding and following the right course, and he had to take the reins again, at least to keep himself firmly into the saddle.

Deftly guiding Voluptas among the rocky crags and the eddies of air Pitch managed to make it glide and then land, more or less softly, into the basin, avoiding by a hair's breadth the impact against a group of icy stalagmites which appeared in front him all of a sudden; not caring at all about his horse he dismounted, accidentally ripping some small strand of darkness from its fickle mane as he tried in every way to bring Jack down without hurting him; finally, after trudging among the clumps of moss up to the first pool available, he laid his light burden on the ground and took his face between his palms, giving it some delicate slap on the cheek to wake him up.

«Jack» he called him, with as much sweetness as much urgency; «Jack, baby? Don't close your eyes: we've arrived. After all the cold you've felt you'll definitely want to take a nice hot bath, won't you? I'll undress you, but you should give me a hand: you have to lift your hips to help me take your pants off, then to sat down to let me take off the hoodie, but most of all you have to stay awake, do you understand? Now I'm going to untie the ribbon and the string you fastened around your calves».

Without waiting for a nod he began to untie the tangle of laces, hurriedly unravelling them and throwing them away, then he quickly stripped him, slowing his movement only when he took off his hoodie and vest together, in order to better follow his dangling head's irregular swaying and avoid suffocating him; after briefly checking that his skin had not suffered superficial wounds and verified, unfortunately and for the second time, that his belly still remained as cold as an icicle, he decided what to do and slid his arms under his body, tightening the left around his shoulder and the right behind his knees.

«Keep your head up, Jack» he urged him in a thoughtful tone.

Without hesitation he lifted him up, holding him away from his chest for a few seconds to let his clothes fell down into dust, then he immediately returned to hug him tightly, murmuring reassuring sentences as he advanced cautiously along the slippery bank. Since he hadn't found an aided access to the first spring Pitch went straight to the second one, walking around it in the hope to be able to dive, if not easily, at least without risking to break his neck, but there the rocks were even more irregular and sharp than before; trying not to get discouraged he passed in sequence to a third and a fourth, cursing himself for having landed so far from the large pool in which North had guided him, but in the end his efforts were rewarded: a flight of steps, steep and chipped, but equally useful, appeared among the steam right in front of him, sloping down into a deep and narrow pool of water slightly pink.

Hurrying at first along a meandering path through the moss, then down those rough stairs, the Boogeyman plunged to the waist, but just when he was about to lay his lover in the healthy liquid a voice shouted: «No, Pitch, wait! A sudden heat will only harm him!».

Startling the man turned and, in the midst of the thick fog which surrounded him, he saw Toothiana, her feathers and wings soaking wet in dew and her face flushed as she flew toward him with difficulty.

Not amused at all by the Guardian's ruffled and ridiculously upset look Pitch countered: «His belly has been as cold as ice for more than twenty minutes, I must do it! What will happen if the child dies? He needs to warm up!».

«Even more so!» exclaimed the fairy, awkwardly landing next to him; «A thermal shock is the last thing Jack and the baby need! I have another solution in mind, but first bring him here: I want to check something».

Albeit reluctantly and trembling with anxiety the Boogeyman headed back, cupping his hand over his genitals to maintain at least a little decency and not to deprive him of all dignity, then he reached the knelt Guardian and lifted him slightly, so as to bring him nearly at her womb level. The woman didn't waste time and immediately bent over the boy, placing her hand on his swollen belly and her lips at the limit between this and the stomach; she remained in that position for a long time, groping her free hand on Jack's neck to check his pulse and feel his temperature, but in the end she stood up with a smile and said: «Superficially the belly is still cold, but inside it seems to be very hot, and globally, albeit weak, Jack is healthy. I know that, in the past, he has already come here at the baths, and that heat doesn't cause him permanent damages, but we don't know what effect it may have on the child, so it's better not to risk. Sit here, lay him on yourself and start to wet his legs; in the meanwhile I'll go to take the towels, so we can soak them with warm water and wrap them around him».

Not daring to contradict such a wise suggestion the man obeyed, mildly sitting in the hollow which had been indicated to him and resting his love on his thighs, then he took care of him as best as he could, settling him against his chest to prevent him from slipping, holding his head to ease the respiration, spraying tiny drops of thermal water to gradually accustom him to the heat and discretely caressing the small belly, no longer so small, which deformed his abdomen.

After minutes which seemed hours to him he glimpsed Toothiana reappear in the middle of the steam, now so soaked she couldn't even fly, and she followed her slow and hesitant steps with increasing anxiety, wincing every time he spotted her putting a foot wrong and choking back a scream when he saw her slipping into the pool. Torn between the need to rescue one of the few people able to help him and the duty to keep his partner safe Pitch hesitated, but in the end the fairy managed to recover by herself: coughing and shaking her head she allowed herself a moment, then she quickly retrieved the towels she had brought, wrapping them around an arm and waving the other to swim towards the lovers.

Accepting more than willingly the hand which was offered to her she climbed the stairs, stumbling several times and almost threatening to collapse on the two she wanted to help, but eventually she managed to settle down and exclaim: «Uh, here I am! Take these, Pitch: among them there's a smaller towel you can wrap around his waist; while you search for it I start to squeeze these larger two, so we'll be able to cover his legs and chest».

Turning to leave him a bit of intimacy the Guardian grabbed a big towel and began to twist it on itself, and the Boogeyman took the opportunity to move the forearms he had joined to cover his partner's groin, and, using a foot, pick a small towel from the pile; after brushing it on his chest and belly to warm them up and remove the water in excess he wrapped it around his hips and urged Toothiana so that she handed him new towels, which he readily draped over the rest of his limbs, folding the edges to make sure that no draft could penetrate and cool him down.

While he continued to work hard, rubbing his palms on the fabric to stimulate the blood flow in the underlying muscles, the fairy pulled herself out of the pool, shook her feathers and swelled them in a vain attempt to dry them, then she grabbed him by the wrists and, staring at him with an encouraging look, she whispered: «Pitch! Don't be afraid: everything is fine now. Jack haven't been harmed, he's safe and soon we will give him some medicine to help him recover: you have nothing to fear».

In a voice broken by despair the man interrupted her: «It is not true, you can't know this! And what if the child died? Jack is not a woman, his belly would end up becoming gangrenous and he would die within few hours!».

«Trust me» insisted the Guardian; «The Man in the Moon has troubled himself so much to make sure he got pregnant, he would never allow him to die, not for a reason so silly as a frostbite beginning! I'm sure he's been watching over him and protecting him until you found him, and that he did the same with the child: it's all right, I can feel it, and I'm sure that, if you could just calm down a little, you would feel it, too. Try not to panic: even though Jack is unconscious he senses your presence, and, no doubt, he will get upset if he perceives you trembling and gasping as you're doing now. Yes, very well, hug him tightly: he will be happy to know you love him so much. Listen to me, massaging his muscles is a good idea and I'm glad you had it, but these towels are too rough for his skin, and moreover he's covered in mud: I'm going to take a bar of soap, okay? Do you know where I can find it?».

After hugging Jack and starting to rock him gently, Pitch took a deep breath and explained: «Go back in the small dry cave near the entrance, where you got the towels, then turn toward the west: few feet far from you you'll find a gibbous rock, vaguely resembling a Yeti, and behind it a low-rise ridge full of pendulous lichens. Follow it until it bends sharply, and at that point continue straight for about twenty steps, until you get to a semi-circular basin covered with falls of pure water: next to the one which splits into three floods you'll find a recess, and in it the soap. Six months ago I found it there, and I don't think that North moved it. Be careful when you'll run along the rock wall: there the path is very slippery».

«Don't worry, I'll be careful and I'll be back as quickly as possible» reassured him Toothiana.

After giving him a small pat of encouragement on his shoulder she began to run, dripping drops and drenched feathers everywhere while trying to keep the tails raised and away from her legs, and the Boogeyman prayed in his hearts she didn't slip: he didn't have the strength to carry both her and the boy to the Palace, and he needed all possible assistance to cure the partner.

As if he had read his mind this moved weakly, moaning something unintelligible and stirring beneath the cloths, and the man came quickly to his aid, throwing his arm around his shoulders to look into his irises and murmuring: «Good morning, Jack! How do you feel? No, no, do not tire yourself: just nod. Is it alright, huh? You don't feel any pain, do you? Perfect. Now we'll have a nice scented bath, so I will sweep away all this mud from your skin and I'll massage your sore muscles: do you like the idea? If you cannot keep your eyes open do not trouble yourself: close them, and sleep if you feel the need to».

Reassured by his words and the calm tone with which they had been uttered Frost brightened up, bending the corners of his mouth in a hint of a smile and finally closing the eyelids over his eyes rolled back; touched and, at the same time, hurt by the weak reaction Pitch smiled back and, after placing his lover's head against his triceps to spare him the fatigue of keeping it raised by himself, he grabbed the two larger towels and put them aside, leaving only the one wrapped around his waist and starting to wet his skin to prepare it for the bath and remove the biggest fragments of mud and leaves.

Just when he had finished combing his ruffled hair a figure appeared on his right and exclaimed: «Found it! I'll leave it to you, okay? Your room is ready, but I should add some wood in the fire to heat it up better and, above all, take all the necessary from the infirmary. Do you feel like handling the situation by yourself?».

Hit right where he felt weaker the Boogeyman gasped, protectively leaning over the boy and looking at her like a hunted prey, then he whispered with difficulty: «Yes... yes, I can do it».

«I have no doubt that you can do it, Pitch» intervened Toothiana; «In fact I asked you a different question, but the answer is now clear. Jack's clothes are in a pitiful state, so leave them here: we will retrieve them later. In order to cover him you can use one of the towels left: there are a few in the cave near the access tunnel, and you will not have trouble finding a suitable one. See you later».

Continuing to hug Jack tightly the man followed the fairy with his eyes, exploiting all his willpower in order not to think about anything and, thereby, avoid being overwhelmed by the situation, and when he saw her disappear he succeeded: an opaque veil fell over his eyes, considerably clouding the sight, but inhibiting any reflection which was ever born in his mind, and for the first time in almost half an hour he successfully stopped trembling. Confused by the blurred vision he tried to focus on a detail at a time, proceeding first with removing the last towel which still covered the boy, then grabbing the bar of soap which had been left on a rocky outcrop: holding it firmly in his fingers he rubbed it on the lover's body, insisting particularly on the legs, the arms and the chest and daring only later to brush it gently on his belly, for fear that an excessive pressure could bother him, then, using the lather created, he began to cleanse his rebel hair.

He couldn't say when he lost his grip on the soap, whether immediately or only just before he realized his hand was empty, but when he noticed it he didn't give weight to it: Frost's skin was now clean and scented, and there was no reason for him to lose time retrieving an object which has become useless. After briefly rinsing his partner he picked him up, lifting him carefully while he stood up, then he concentrated to dissipate at least in part the fuzzy blanket which had dropped on his irises, and he walked along the path; relying more on the touch and on his innate sense of direction rather than on his fallacious sight he managed to reach the small raised cave on the basin's borders, to dry himself and the boy and wrap him in a large towel, then he turned to the exit and headed there.

He could never remember anything about that short walk, either the suffocating tightness of the long access tunnel he had inevitably taken, nor the cold and the whiteness of the snow through which he had necessarily trudged, nor the friendly shadows in the Palace's corridors he had obviously traversed: nothing, not even the smallest detail. He seemed to have slid into a dream without shape or volume, without colour, without feelings, a sort of trance, inexplicable and apparently impossible, from which, however, and fortunately, he awoke unharmed, dressed with the tunic with rips he had invented months before and with Jack softly lying on a bed.

Shaking his head weakly he looked around to familiarize with his surroundings and it took only a few seconds to him to identify the round window facing north and the large hearth: that was definitely the room Santa Claus had generously donated to him. Glad to have reached the desired destination despite the unexpected dizziness Pitch sat on the mattress and started to undo the towel to release the boy and then be able to settle him under the sheets, but, as soon as he uncovered his feet, he got appalled: wounds of all kinds disfigured them, some open, other sharp, some large and superficial and others so deep to show the tendons, and scabs and dirt blocked them, thickening them and clearly hiding several active infection.

Pressing a hand over his mouth to stifle a sob the Boogeyman stood up and walked toward the entrance: Frost was now officially out of danger and leaving him alone for a couple of minutes was not risky, so it was better to take the opportunity to rush to the infirmary, retrieve disinfectant and bandages and remedy the mess.

With his mind completely focused on the new mission he reached the door, opened it and got into the hallway, but he didn't even have the time to walk a few steps that something struck him: something hard, lumpy, strong, something cruel, which hit him on the left cheekbone and upended him in a blink of an eye.

With a mental alertness he didn't think to still possess he clung to a trunk which furnished the corridor, avoiding by a hair's breadth the impact against the pointy studs which decorated its front, but due to the momentum he tumbled over it, coming almost to get stuck between the cover and the back wall and finally glimpsing his assailant's green irises.

«We had a deal, Pitch» menacingly whispered Bunnymund, bending the legs for a new attack; «But, as the lousy maggot you are, you have forgotten it, and, as I promised, I'll make you pay dearly for this».

That single, bare sentence was enough to crash the house of cards: every wall, every block, every defence Pitch had been able to raise in his mind to stem the thoughts which had threatened to drown him collapsed, unleashing that river in flood which swept over him suddenly and with all its power. Oh, no, Pitch had never forgotten the deal the Pooka had imposed to him, nor the threats he had sent him: he perfectly remembered the words he had uttered in his warren before reopening the tunnel and bring him back to North, he remembered the dozens of implications hidden in them, he had thought about them thousands and thousands of times in the recent months, and yet he had been able to fail. He had done it in good faith, sure he was acting for a greater good, moving away only and solely to preserve his little snowflake, but those were excuses which didn't stand in the face of reality: Jack laid lifeless in the other room, wounded only because of his mistakes, weakened only because of his escape, umpteenth and more evident emblem of his failures. He had failed, failed, failed. He had failed, and he had done it with the thing he cared about most in the world. He had failed, and there was nothing he could do to remedy.

It was for this reason that, when the Easter Bunny approached him and grabbed him by the collar, he had no reaction: whatever he was about to do he deserved it, as much as Frost had deserved a far better partner than him, and he had no right to kick against the punishment he was about to receive. He didn't lift a finger when the opponent kneed him in the abdomen, levering on his legs in order not to fall and to better offer himself to his anger; he didn't let out groan when, with a snarl, he threw him a hook a hair's breadth away his right eye, tossing him to the end of the corridor; he didn't try to run away when he heard him running towards him, moving his contracted limbs away from his stomach to expose it to his his furious kicks; finally, when the sensed him lift a paw over his skull to crash it, he didn't raise up his arms to defend himself, but he merely prayed his lover could recover from the pain of his inexcusable defaults and return to live peaceful and happy.

A second before the other slammed the foot, however, a voice shouted: «Stop! _Stop it!_».

Confused sounds of a fight echoed in the passage, followed by heavy footsteps and sharp orders, and eventually something pounced again on the Boogeyman, grabbing him by the shoulders and forcing him to sit up; when this, however, struggling against the dizziness and the fatigue, managed to reopen the eyes, he found himself not in front of Bunnymund's green irises, but Toothiana's fuchsia ones.

«Pitch! How do you feel? Did he hurt you? Did he injure you?» anxiously asked the fairy.

«Whatever I did to him it's nothing in comparison to what he deserves!» shouted the Pooka.

«You're just a fool!» retorted the woman; «You're preaching from a pulpit on which you are not worthy to stand, and on the base of assumptions you're not able to do! Only Jack has the right to judge him for what he did, and you're no one to act for him! Be happy that he came back and that he saved Jack from certain death, and don't add more pain to what all of us already suffered».

«All of us except him! We've been after Jack, cured him, consoled him, we racked our brain to find a way to soothe the symptoms of pregnancy, we bent over backwards to make him happy and despaired when he escaped, and he, this vile beast, what did he do? He fled away from the problem, pretending he was working to resolve it, he came back just for a few hours, then he decided he didn't like the situation and ran with his tail between his legs, hiding in any hole in the world to celebrate the newfound freedom while we were losing sleep to find him! Life is beautiful, isn't it, Pitch? Life is beautiful when you only think about yourself! Maggot! You disgust me, and it disgust me the idea that you were lounging about in your beloved darkness while Jack almost killed himself just to run after you!».

During that series of insults and offences the Easter Bunny, who had promptly been tackled by North, managed to free himself at least partially, getting few feet far from Pitch's face and casting him a look overflowing with contempt, but the Boogeyman could only glance back at him with an expression full of sadness: almost nothing he had been accused of was true, but defending himself was useless, because the greatest sin had actually been committed by him, and eclipsed by far everything else.

Pressing a hand on the man's neck to make him slightly raise his head Toothiana ordered his interlocutor: «Look, Bunnymund: look at him straight in the eyes. Does he look like a person who enjoyed doing what he did? I dare you to have the courage to say he never suffered».

Deforming his face into a disgusted grimace Bunnymund blurted out: «Even the evil ones shed crocodile tears, but only the righteouses feel pain. On one point Toothiana is right: I cannot know what you did while you were away. Have you remained holed up in some unreachable corner of your den? Have you taken refuge in some secret bases scattered around the world? Did you go out to scare children? Come on, satisfy my curiosity: I want to hear from your mouth word by word the description of how low you have stooped while the rest of us was suffering».

If only the man had been more himself, or less tired, he would have thought twice about telling the truth, and, no doubt, he would have invented in a jiffy a lie as dreadful as credible, making sure not to arouse the slightest pity in the listener and, indeed, to flare him up and make him feel even more justified to attack: it was not his thing seeking comfort or compassion, nor trying to make his guilt milder by revealing what was actually behind it. At that moment, however, his mind was not sufficiently lucid to make such an effort, so he simply opened his cut lips and confessed: «I was destroying my Purebloods. I couldn't kill them by myself, not all of them, at least, because they are too strong when they're all together, so I accompanied them to the special children, those who doesn't feel fear, and I made them fail and dissolve. I went on for three days, but in the end I was too tired and I had to go back to my lair to rest. I stayed there for a few hours, but the Nightmares didn't give me a moment's peace, therefore I woke up and got ready to go back to watch Jack from afar; when I arrived at the exit, however, I found him semi-unconscious on a pile of leaves and with the belly as cold as a piece of ice, so I decided to bring him here, to warm him up, medicate all his wounds and keep him safe. You know the rest».

A look of pure wonder appeared on the Pooka's muzzle at that statement, his eyes wide with astonishment and his ears lowered, as if they were not able to withstand the unexpected truth, and he asked: «You, you were... committing suicide? Why?».

Holding back the tears with difficulty the fairy whispered: «I told you not to add more pain to what all of us already suffered, Bunnymund. North, bring him away: the last thing Jack needs is hearing his shouts. Sandman, please, take the Himalayan absinthe North has just picked up and give it to the Yetis, so they can make the infusion: ask them to prepare two glasses, then bring them to me here».

Without offering the slightest resistance the Easter Bunny let himself be dragged away, his gaze still shocked by the revelation and looking like he didn't know neither what to say, nor what to do, and a faint rustle announced that Sandy, probably hidden behind the imposing figure of North, was ready to leave: in a few seconds the trio walked down the corridor, silent as it had ever been in that late morning, then it opened a door and disappeared in the distance, leaving Pitch and the woman alone.

Lowering her glistening eyes on the man's half closed ones she stroked his cheek and said: «Fool, you're nothing but a fool: you've been living for almost a year closely with Jack without anything bad happening to him, how could you believe that your Purebloods could turn against him? They know him well, now».

Coughing with difficulty the Boogeyman replied: «Are you kidding me? You saw the Pureblood who was about to pounce on him, too».

«No, Pitch» countered the other; «What I saw was a master too tired and upset to even be able to perceive his servants beside himself. Your mood and your conditions have an impact on your creatures: at that moment I was scared to death, but in hindsight I have to admit that the Pureblood's expression was more confused than aggressive. I don't know how Nightmares works, and probably I will never know it, but one thing is certain: as long as you don't let yourself be overwhelmed by fear they are under your control, and they would never dare to disobey you».

«No, they're evil beasts, ready to strike out on their own as soon as I have my back on them, and I cannot let them live: I have to eliminate the most dangerous ones» insisted the man.

«And what are the most dangerous ones, huh, Pitch?» urged him Toothiana; «Where is the dividing line between the acceptable and the unacceptable when talking about personal safety? You would never stop: if you managed to eliminate all your Purebloods, you'd get on to the medium sized Nightmares, no doubt, then to the smaller ones, and eventually you wouldn't even dare to summon your black sand. Bunnymund exaggerated when he said you were committing suicide, but not too much: you'd end up letting yourself wither, and it is wrong from any point of view».

«It would probably be the only way for me not to make any more mistakes» stated Pitch.

«No, Pitch, it would be a good way to make a huge one. You shouldn't condemn yourself: to err is human, and you are much more human than you think. Don't get stranded on the mistakes you made, look beyond. Think about all the wonderful things you've done: all the times you made Jack smile, all the times you made him happy and feel special, all the rides you shared and all the stories you read together, all the wonderful places you showed to him. Think about the fact that, even though you fled, you then decided to come back, and don't you dare even for a moment to contradict me by saying you did it too late, or similar nonsense: you changed your mind long before something irreparable happened, and, however, you run away convinced you were pursuing Jack's sake, not out of selfishness. Stop destroying yourself, Pitch: you're perfect just as you are for him» hushed him the fairy.

Hearing her nipping in the bud the reasonings he was ready to bring about to reiterate his inadequacy and feeling himself blush for the compliments which had been addressed to him, the Boogeyman gave up arguing and tried to deflect the conversation, pointing out: «Jack's feet are covered in lesions: I must absolutely retrieve bandages and disinfectant and medicate them».

«It was one of the first things I noticed when I found you at the thermal baths, and I've already carried the wherewithal in the room, so you don't need to go to the infirmary: the bandages and disinfectant are already on the table. No, don't stir, you cannot enter now: your face is bruised and you're barely able to stand up, how do you think Jack would react? Be patient for a few minutes: the cuts are already healing, the dizziness will fade and the glass of medicine that I've asked for will definitely put you back on your feet. Rest a little and try to calm down, so soon you'll recover» reassured him the woman.

After kissing his forehead to calm him, she began to rock him gently, clearly hampered by the difference in size, but not embarrassed at all, and the man, albeit not convinced he deserved forgiveness and such a privileged treatment, didn't have the heart to escape those fingers light as feathers: now he understood well that fleeing was not the solution. Remembering the loving care he had received from her few months before right in this Palace he let her, allowing her to briefly comb him, to check every little wound and even to cuddle him a little, and he sighed softly, absently caressing her long tail quills to thank her and struggling to hold back his guilt, in order to avoid letting slip other pathetic comments about himself and his behaviour.

After a few minutes's wait full of tenderness Sandman reappeared, sporting a beaming smile and holding in hands two cups of wood, and Pitch gladly the one which he offered to him, then he straightened his back and drank it all in one gulp; shaking his shoulders to dispel a chill he started to get up, but a sudden realization hit him and he exclaimed: «I can't believe I drank the medicine, now I'll collapse because of the cold and I won't be able to help Jack!».

«No, no, do not worry» hastened to reassure him Toothiana; «In the recent months North and the Yetis have been extensively studying the plant, and they discovered a subspecies whose side effects are much less intense than the most common variety's ones: you will probably shiver a little, but you won't risk to freeze».

Bucked up by these news the Boogeyman ran a hand over his face, both to dispel any trace of panic and to check that all the wounds had healed, then he pulled himself up and, swapping his glass with the Bringer of Dreams', he stated: «I'm going to give the medicine to Jack and medicate his feet. Feel free to come with me, if you want to: he's always enjoyed the company».

Laying a hand on his shoulder the fairy whispered: «We'll come, but not now: we have some things to settle, and, most importantly, we want to leave you a bit of intimacy. Don't cure only his body: it's not there where he's most hurt».

Puckering his lips to hide the pain this confirmation caused him he nodded, staring at a knot in the wood panel which covered the wall to prevent a tear rolling down his cheek, then he waited for the Guardians to say him goodbye and disappear in a secondary passage, and only at that point he managed to rise and turn his gaze to the door beyond which Jack rested. He stared at it for a long time, following the Christmas meander engraved on the jambs back and forth and losing himself while counting the edelweiss which composed it, as if trying to gather the courage to face what laid beyond that threshold, but in the end, remembering the words Toothiana had told him, he moved: running aground on the mistakes made was a childish and limiting gesture, which would have only lead him to err again and again and postponing the solution to the problem, and it was not the time to delay yet, since a long, long time.

Raising the best smile he could put together he entered the room and got next to the boy, feeling a slight pang in realizing he was so upset he couldn't even completely close his eyes while gasping during the sleep, and he preferred to let him rest a little longer, taking advantage of his unconscious state to medicate his feet and spare him, at least in part, the stabbing burning sensation which removing the scabs and cleaning the wounds would have caused him.

After placing a towel under his heels to avoid tarnishing the blankets he started to work at a good pace, using a rounded iron to remove the blood clots softened by the thermal waters, brushing a gauze soaked in disinfectant on the wounds so open and then removing all the traces of soil and dirt; he went on for long, proceeding very slowly so as not to cause him unnecessary sufferance and dedicating whole minutes to the deeper cuts, and when he concluded he begin afresh, giving a second wipe at both the soles to make sure he hadn't missed anything; finally, when he was certain he had cured all the infections, he bandaged the injured extremities, taking care not to tighten too much to let the blood flow and facilitate the healing.

Once he had finished his work he tidied up, throwing the pieces of fabric too soiled to be cleaned into the fire and wrapping the other in the towel, then, after placing all of this far away from Frost, he sat down beside him and shook him lightly to wake him.

«Jack? Jack, can you hear me? I know you're very tired, but you should take the medicine: are you able to stay awake for a few minutes, so I can give it to you?» he asked in a gentle tone.

Stirring a little under the towel the boy moaned, opening his eyes with difficulty and immediately staring into Pitch's ones, and this commented with a proud smile: «Good, Jack, very good, I knew you'd have managed to. Come on, lean on me: I do not want you to tire yourself too much. Now I'll bring the glass to your lips and slowly tilt it, okay? You'll just have to swallow, and, if you don't manage to, you'll only have to pull my robe and I'll stop. Are you ready? If you need anything, give me a sign».

In response Jack continued to look at him, not letting out neither a cry, nor a gesture, and the Boogeyman decided to take it as a consent: passing his left arm around his shoulders he lifted him up, straightening his back and supporting his head with his hand, then he grabbed the wooden cup from the bedside table and brought it to his lips. Noticing that these didn't contact he was about to give up and look for a spoon to feed him, but eventually he decided to make at least one attempt, and it was with an expression of pure joy that he sensed his Adam's apple move to accompany the first sip swallowed; kissing his forehead to reward him he encouraged him to continue, giving him a cuddle for each inch of medicine he drank and continuing to repeat him how proud he was of him and of his strength, and when the glass was completely emptied he whispered: «Perfect, Jack: you drank it all. How about we go back to sleep? Do you need anything before, by any chance?».

Groaning imperceptibly the boy arched, squirming until he made the strip of towel which covered his shoulders fall, and the man, realizing the cloth bothered him, hastened to loosen it and lower it to take it away; as soon as he discovered the belly, however, Frost rested his palms on it, letting out a moan almost hissing and casting him an expression quizzical and, at the same time, worried.

«Does it hurt, Jack?» ventured Pitch; «Or maybe you're you worried about the child? Don't worry, everything should be fine: you don't have bruises or cuts, and the belly is warm again. If it makes you feel more comfortable I can watch over you while you rest and check if it becomes livid. Don't fear, baby: I will take care of you and make you feel good again».

The boy's eyes lit up with a new light, so full of happiness and gratitude to shine, and a subtle hint of a smile appeared on his lips, bending their corners slightly up; touched by his reaction the Boogeyman leaned over him, placing a gentle kiss on his swollen belly to reassure him further, and when he sensed his hand resting on his neck he went on, caressing that taut skin with his mouth to try to put him at ease as much as possible.

When he felt him perfectly relaxed and he got ready to straighten his back and pet his head to facilitate sleep, however, he heard him start to stammer: «K-ke... e... p...».

Confused by that seemingly meaningless gibberish the man frowned and asked: «Keep? Did you said "keep", Jack?».

Jack faltered, trembling a little as he addressed him a look which seemed almost desperate and begging for forgiveness, and Pitch suddenly realized what the other had tried to tell him.

«You want... you want to keep the baby? Is it this what you're trying to tell me?» he demanded, his irises already wide with amazement, and the boy did exactly what he expected: he snuggled against him, as if in search of comfort, and, albeit slowly and hesitantly, he nodded.

I hope the chapter was worth the wait, feel free to leave me a comment, if you want to. Next chapter will be published on Friday. Have a nice evening!


	12. Chapter 12

**WE DON'T HAVE TO BE ALONE – CHAPTER 12**

As soon as she saw him nod Pitch winced, not ready at all to receive that positive response although, considering Jack's pleading expression, he had expected it, and he instinctively withdrew a little, not out of fear or distrust, but simply in wonderment: since the boy had discovered he was pregnant he had an attitude of complete rejection towards the unplanned belly, naming only to reaffirm his desire to get rid of it and touching it just to check it hadn't suffered any damage, so hearing him mentioning it lovingly and gently caressing it was an event shocking, to say the least.

After stepping back, as if, by observing the scene from a rearward position, he could be able to understand it better, the Boogeyman stood still, shivering a bit while still trying to digest the news, and he didn't noticed the other's reaction at all, too busy to stare at his bump to pay attention to his face; soon, however, he realized that the jolts which shook his swollen abdomen were too strong to be caused simply by breathing, and in fact, as he looked up, he found himself in front of his lover's shiny eyes, widened in vain to hold back the tears which had already reached the collarbones.

Taken aback the man opened his palms, raising them between himself and his partner as he was used to do when he calmed him while minimizing or clarifying a question, and he stammered: «No, no, Jack, don't do that, I didn't say no, I'm not refusing, I'm just... surprised, do you understand? You've always wanted to get rid of the baby and now you want to keep them, it's strange for me, I didn't...».

Soon he had to stop that rambling speech he had tried to set up as an explanation, the words dying in his throat in seeing that, for each new observation, the tears Frost shed and the tremors which shook him increased more and more, and he never dared to finish it: it was now clear that that uncontrollable crying was yet another symptom of the current pregnancy, and trying to reason with the boy, forcing his worn out mind to comprehend what, at that time, was not within its reach, was useless and, in the long run, it would have turned out deleterious.

Abandoning the futile phrases he had elaborated Pitch took Jack in his arms and began to rock him to tranquillise him, and he was not surprised to hear him weeping loudly, rather hastening to give light pats on the back, in order to quell, at least a little, those violent sobs, and little kisses on the temple, to remind him that he still loved him, as always and forever. Unfortunately all those caring attentions served no purpose, maybe too mild to be able to cancel a sufferance brooded for days, but in the end, where they failed, the fatigue won: although the lover's irises betrayed all the panic he still felt his eyelids descended slowly to cover them, his breath, albeit still rattling, gradually slowed almost to normal, and, finally, despite occasional chills persisted in running over him from time to time, his body stopped wincing, limiting the shivers only to the wrists and the jaw.

Sensing that his partner had partially calmed down the Boogeyman hugged him, taking care, however, to press his chest only against his right side, so as not to crush his belly and leave him room to catch his breath, then he whispered: «Good, Jack, breath slow, as you always do when you curl up against me. Do you remember all the times you did it? You liked it, don't you? Today is not different from any other day: you can lean against me and ask me for any cuddle, and I'll give it to you you, as always. Let yourself go, Jack: listen to the beat of my heart and close your eyes».

Although with difficulty and teeth-chattering the boy followed every word of that little pep talk and obeyed, tilting his head to the right and resting his forehead against his lover's sternum; touched by his strength of will the man smiled, sliding his arm around his rib cage to support him, but when he felt him slithering towards him to place his ear under the left collarbone he regretted the proposal he had done: unlike the usual his heart was throbbing so fast and loud to make vibrate his every artery, and there was absolutely no way to control it.

A few seconds before Frost reached him the sight of his wet cheeks gave Pitch an idea and he quickly turned the torso, tearing off a cloth from his robe and bringing it to his face to dry it: the perfect excuse to combine the useful with the pleasurable and, above all, to mask his own turmoil. As he expected the boy responded meekly, allowing him to gently rub the fabric from the cheekbones down to the base of the neck and arching his cervix to expose the soft flesh of the throat, and the Boogeyman made sure to use all the delicacy which belonged to him, dabbing his skin in order not to redden it further and insisting particularly on the hollows among his sinews and protruding bones.

Once he was sure he had removed any trace of moisture he wrapped the dark shred around his left wrist, hoping that the tears now cold could give him relief, and it was at the same time with joy and tension that he greeted his relaxation, happy to have put him at ease, but still concerned about the uncontrollable palpitations which had caught his heart. In an effort to continue to keep the fact hidden he slowly lifted his forearm, bending over its inside and smothering it with kisses to cover with the smacks the pulse's deafening sound, which was now increased to the point it seemed to echo not only in his chest, but even in the whole room, and yet this little trick managed to make him feel at ease only for short: over time the anxiety and the nervousness which had gripped him since the boy had revealed to him his shocking decision grew, fuelled by fears and confused thoughts and not soothed at all by the cuddles he was giving, nor by the words of encouragement he was uttering, and now he could clearly perceive the self-control abandoning him, slipping through his fingers like wind, escaping from his body like the water which slowly evaporated from the cloth he was still clutching.

Several times he was about to give up, stand up, hold his head in his hands, shout his dismay, desperately ask "Why?", not to Jack, but to himself, who had not been able to see that, behind those little thoughtful gestures the partner devoted to his belly, there was more love than he had expressed in words, who had not been able to guess his real desire, who had not been able to openly and thoroughly discuss with him about such an important issue. Oh, he would have needed nothing to resolve, just taking some days to reflect and a few hours to talk, and everything could have worked out for the best right away, but he had not allowed: he had let fear grip him, not only preventing the matter to come to a happy conclusion, which, however, was hard even in that moment in his opinion, but also generating endless and needless suffering, and he had preferred to deduce what most pleased him from a cursory observation, immediately throwing himself headlong into a wearing mission and avoiding to face the situation. Now the words Toothiana had shouted him as he ran in his library were clear: he would have had to think about what his snowflake really wanted, to ask him several times, to explain in detail what the various options involved, not to take as true the few, short screams he had shouted, moreover caused by the desperation of the moment and the emotional upheaval due to pregnancy. He should have done this, but he hadn't, and it was too late to remedy, as much as useless mulling endlessly over it: he had to proceed to the next problem, but the prospect of thinking about that child never wished which rooted in his partner's belly frightened him maybe even more than a full day spent regretting his own wrong choices.

While the man was trying to digest the news by now received more than five minutes before, to silence his own mind on the brink of madness and not to let the internal conflict which wracked him appear in any way a crackling hiss came to his ears, making him wince and turn his eyes, and he found himself in front of the boy's crystal clear ones, the lower eyelids raised for the effort to open his mouth.

Sensing he was about to speak he forestalled him: «Jack, do you need something? Tell me what you need with a simple gesture: I'll take care to interpret it and give you what you want».

In that sentence, which was halfway between an order and a suggestion, Frost responded shaking his head, then he placed his hands on his bump, cupping them and trying again, and again unsuccessfully, to utter understandable words.

Grief-stricken by the difficulty his lover have just to put together a sentence Pitch guessed: «You want to talk about the baby, Jack? About you and them, maybe about the fact you want to keep them?».

After hearing him the boy nodded vigorously, and the Boogeyman, with equal determination, sharply replied: «No».

He immediately regretted the harshness he had used, excessive, cruel, too sincere in showing how little he was ready to deal with the topic, but he didn't reverse his choice: the main reason which had led him to postpone was not the bewilderment and the sense of inadequacy he felt, but Jack's evident exhaustion, and he was not going to wear him out further by starting a complex and draining discussion.

Before wonder and dismay could seize the boy the man hastened to explain: «I'm not refusing forever, Jack: I'm willing to discuss about this with you openly and in detail, but not now. You're exhausted, wounded, you can barely sit up with my help, how could you think you'd be able to bear a conversation, moreover so heavy? No, it's out of the question: now you'll get a good night's sleep».

A whine of protest broke from Frost's lips, so sharp and strident to hurt his throat and cause him to cough, but not to desist from his resistance: clinging at his lover's collar with the strength born of despair he drew him towards himself, opening his mouth in the mute request of the answer he hadn't received yet, and the man, now put on the spot, did the only thing he could think of and which he would have never be proud of.

«Close your eyes, baby» he warned him.

Then, with a quick wave of his hand, he disentangled the piece of cloth he had wrapped around his wrist, hanging it over his face and then letting the dark weave dissolve, disintegrating into fine grains of sand which, running among his fingers, slid on the boy's eyelids to definitely seal them in a deep sleep. Not even for a moment he feared he had caused him a nightmare, well aware of how the other had become so accustomed to the magic sand to suffer almost no effect, and to assure him a quiet rest he sent him an image of himself, rejoicing at the weak laugh he gave him: he had acted as a coward, although motivated by good intentions, but at least he had made him happy.

Making sure to proceed with caution so as not to wake him he plumped up the pillows, placing them against the headboard, then he picked him up and laid him against them, his back resting on the soft fabric and his head supported by a small cushion; after putting aside the towel in which he had carried him and tucking the sheet around his waist, he noticed that this was too short to cover him and he created a thin blanket of darkness, which draped on his chest to remedy the problem, therefore, checking a last time that his lover had received all the possible care, he allowed himself to think about himself.

First he stood up and repaired his robe, vaguely intending to ponder with calm and lucidity about what had happened in those brief but intense minutes, but soon the agitation gained the upper hand: before he could reflect he needed information, at least hints about what Jack had lived, said and thought while he was absent, and Toothiana was the only one who could help him. He had no intention to subject her to an insistent questioning, nor, least of all, to let her guess the research he had decided to start, so he couldn't go and look for her, appearing out of breath in front of her and with his mouth full of questions: he would have to wait for her to show up by herself, greeting her only for ostensible education, answering hesitantly to the questions about the boy's health she would have surely made and then gradually diverting the conversation to those eleven days he had missed. He should have given the impression of wanting to simply become aware of any illnesses he could have had, and not of the thoughts he might have shared, interpreting on her gestures the ideas he had matured and the reasonings by which we had come to them: it was the only way to begin to extricate himself in that jungle of shouted madnesses and unspoken truths.

With this plan of action in mind the Boogeyman began to pace the room, walking up and down in order to keep himself awake and not to be overwhelmed by the thousands of concerns which had gripped him, but soon a slight moan from Frost and a cramp in his right calf made him change strategy: the partner needed physical contact to stay calm, and anyway he had worn himself out too much in the previous week to be able to stand for long.

Limping with difficulty towards the bed he laid in it, sitting next to the boy and sliding an arm around his waist to make him feel his presence, but he made sure to twist his torso until he felt a dull pain in the spine, and to rest the neck on the headboard's hard knob: a small respite for his limbs was acceptable and, at that point, dutiful, but sleep was something he didn't want to and he couldn't afford, and he would have never allowed it to himself for any reason at all.

With a heavy sigh Toothiana closed the infirmary's last vase still open, making sure to align the cover's notch with the edge's one, so that the herbs contained in it could be kept completely dry, then she put it back on the lower shelf, leaving it handy for the other medicaments which, no doubt, she should have had to prepare.

After taking a deep breath she turned to Sandy, casting a wide smile to let him know she had finished her work, but the truth was that her heart was dripping with sadness: in the days before she had felt more pain and sense of helplessness than throughout her whole existence. How many times she had cried, going away with any excuse to avoid being seen by anyone, and especially in order not to see: not to see Pitch consumed in a useless search, not to see Jack slowly wither in sheets he wasn't even able to move, not to see the relationship between the two fading, stifled by horror and fear, because, though she had always been a strong woman, there were things she couldn't bear. She had tried to remedy, talking with the boy to soothe at least his loneliness and help him take the best decision, starting more than a conversation with the man to induce him open his eyes, but nothing had really worked: although she was caring and loving she couldn't hope to mend a relationship which she was involved into, simple messenger between two parties who had now closed themselves each in his own world, but this awareness hadn't made the failure less painful. She had felt the bottom fell out of her world when the Boogeyman had fled, blaming herself countless times for not having spoken more clearly and openly with him, for not having watched over him while he persisted to study on North's desk, for not having forced him to abandon those damn books which he thought to devour, but which actually devoured him, and to finally take the break he deserved and needed in order to face the issue with a clear mind, but when, two days and a half later, she had woken up and not found Frost in his bed, she had felt herself dying: he would have never imagined the situation could escalate to that point. Now useless nurse for a patient no longer present she had threw herself into his search, urging her fairies to redouble their efforts to find the old fugitive and the new one, and she had completely stopped thinking, blinded by panic and completely lost in the chase, but now that the worst was over it was time to go back to dominate herself and use the head: behaving like a hunted animal was exactly what had brought everybody to ruin, therefore she should not allow it neither to herself, nor to the others, and she was more than willing to get tougher, if these had turned out to be the only possible way.

A discreet rustle suddenly came to her ears, buzzing first to her right, then to her left, and when she looked up she found herself in front of a small hummingbird of golden sand, its tiny head tilted as it watched her and its body perfectly still even though he was flapping its wings at a speeds so high to make them look like a simple halo of blurred light.

«I stood her daydreaming for long, huh, Sandy?» asked Toothiana to her silent partner, who had to wait for who knows how long; «I'm sorry: I got lost in my own thoughts. Come on, let's go visit Pitch and Jack».

With a quick leap she jumped down from the cabinet on which she had gradually landed, darting fast towards the door, but Sandman stepped between her and it, casting her a worried look and offering her a shimmering sphere of magic sand he had just shaped.

Touched by that gesture the fairy commented: «Oh, Sandy, you're really sweet, as always. Yes, I would really like to rest and make a nice dream, but first I'd like to check how the two lovebirds are: considering the ease with which they get in trouble I wouldn't be surprised to discover they have made another mess. May you save it for later?».

Raising his thumb the Bringer of Dreams pocketed the ball, flattening it a little to be able to slip it easily into a hidden fold of his garment, then he pulled away, opening an arm to give way to her; flashing a wide smile the woman accepted the invitation, dedicating him a quick bow before leaping into the corridor, then, waiting for him to fly next to her, she asked him: «What do you say, Jack has already told Pitch he wants to keep the baby?».

At that question Sandy began to scratch his chin, pondering deeply on the answer, then he turned and, slyly glancing at her, he nodded.

Chuckling Toothiana replied: «Yes, I think so, too! Since he finally decided a few days ago he has always been so eager to talk to him... I hope he had the strength not to only tell him, but also to explain the reasons which led him to change his mind, because the naked news themselves are pretty shocking».

While she was talking, extricating herself among the passages of the maze she had already roamed countless times, she turned the corner and found North and Bunnymund, the first serious and thoughtful, the second still clearly upset, so she exclaimed: «Oh, here you are. Did you put yourself together, Bunnymund? If you hadn't burst out like that you could have found out the truth in a less traumatic way: I hope this has been a lesson for you for the future. Come on, let's go visit them, but let's stay quiet: we should not disturb them until they have finished talking».

Once everybody had consented she headed back, turned into the passage leading to the bedroom she was looking for and then landed in order not to betray herself with the hum of the wings; proceeding with caution on the parquet she came to the door, keeping her ears open to grasp what was going on inside, but no sound reached her; after waiting for few seconds she braced up, unclosing the door slowly just enough to creep her head into the gap, and when she did that she couldn't hold back a touched smile.

The two lovers were on the bed together, one gently settled into the other's arms, and they had fallen into a deep sleep; however, while Jack was lying softly on the pillows and his lips were bent into a hint of a smile, Pitch was sitting in a position so awkward to reduce his breathing to a hiss, and he had a furrowed brow: it was more than obvious that the agitation he felt had not died down, and that he had struggled in any way to stay awake.

It didn't take long to Toothiana to put two and two together, concluding that the Boogeyman had received the news, but no explanations, and that he had decided to discover them for themselves, and for a moment she was tempted to shake him, at least to spare him the pain in his back he was certainly experimenting, but in the end she didn't call him: the fact he had fallen asleep against his will was a symptom rather evident of the fatigue which weighted down his limbs and

mind, and only when this had faded he would have been ready to understand.

Giving a quick nod to the other Guardians she invited them in, pressing her index finger on her mouth to reiterate not to make noise, then she walked towards the closet to retrieve blankets and pillows and get ready to sleep.

A few hours later Pitch woke, fairly rested, but strangely numb: unlike the usual his mind had been fast to get active again, while the body still stubbornly refused to respond properly to his commands. It didn't take long to him to understand why: he just needed to open his eyes and turn his head to realize that he had slept the whole time with his legs laying on the left side and the torso twisted to the right, while the neck, judging by the pang which had seized him, should have remained tense in a somewhat unnatural position.

Biting his lower lip to stifle a groan he levered on the palms, finally resting his back against the pillows and giving some relief to his creaking spine, then, while waiting to recover, he looked around, immediately widening his eyes in astonishment: the Guardians had literally surrounded him, settling themselves in the most absurd places and ways, and the scene, albeit sweet and somewhat hilarious, managed to cause him only a great embarrassment.

North, the only one who had maintained a minimum of demeanour, had settled down in the armchair, draping a colourful wool blanket on his legs, a serious expression while snoring loudly; Toothiana, instead, had sat on a pile of pillows placed on the floor and then rested her crossed arms and her head on the mattress, as she had done months ago to watch over her first patient's sleep; Sandman, finally, had comfortably laid down on the end of the bed, his arms spread and a wide smile on his face as he was dreaming, and looking like he hadn't minded pushing away the Boogeyman's heels to make himself room. The only one who seemed to be missing was Bunnymund, and actually his absence would have been more than justified, but it took little to the man to find him, crouched on the floor right next to the bed: they were really all there.

Relieved by the fact that, at least, they were all deeply sleeping, Pitch sighed and lowered his irises on the first person he was supposed to look at: his little snowflake. He hadn't forgotten the news this had told him, and the only idea still caused confusion and bewilderment in him, but now the fear and the anxiety which had seized him on the moment had faded: the few hours of rest he had involuntarily allowed to himself had been a real blessing for his shattered consciousness, and now he felt he had the lucidity he needed to face the issue in an appropriate manner.

Just as he got ready to reflect on it, however, his gaze fell inevitably on his partner's bump, which had been half uncovered during the sleep, and it was only thanks to his strong self-control that he managed not to scream: his beautiful skin, always hyaline and so smooth to look like pure silk, was red and rough as sandpaper, and in some areas it had cracked up to the point it had formed light bruises. It took no time to the Boogeyman to realize that this sudden change was due to the stretching it had undergone due to the belly's rapid growth and the elements it had been exposed to during falls and runs not suiting his lover's pregnant state, and even less to decide what to do: he couldn't possibly leave the other in that condition.

With a stifled grunt he stood up, holding up the two flaps of his robe to overstep Bunnymund without waking him up, then he crawled out of the room and went in haste to the infirmary; once there he examined all the jars crammed on the shelves, quickly reading the labels which described them and growling in disappointment when he realized that there was no oil; just when he was about to leave and look elsewhere, however, he noticed a bunch of dried chamomile flowers and several fresh aloe leaves, so he took heart and gathered all the necessary items to prepare a soothing compress. He worked for long, cutting and squeezing as much as he could the long aloe leaves to extract the transparent gel hid inside them and mashing the chamomile flower heads to release their beneficial properties, then he mixed the two ingredients, blending them with energy to make them merge perfectly; despite the efforts he didn't manage to obtain a uniform mixture, but only a semi-liquid and rather lumpy cream, and albeit not satisfied he had to give up and content himself: he couldn't risk to oxidise the medicine only to make it look nicer.

After quickly dampening a towel he brought this and the bowl he had used in the room, walking down backwards the corridors and the path he had followed to avoid tripping in the Pooka's legs, then he gently sat on the mattress and began to medicate his lover: first of all he took small amounts of poultice with his fingers, pouring them on the swollen bump and preparing the skin to the massage; then, wetting the entire palm, he began to stroke, alternating large circular movements to more circumscribed rubs, in order to soothe the widespread redness and to insist particularly on the areas most injured; finally, after cleaning himself up in the towel, he draped it on his belly, to prevent the gel from drying and to prolong its beneficial effects.

During the whole operation Jack continued to sleep, letting out only few, little moans at the beginning and several satisfied sighs as he was pampered, and Pitch was glad to hear he was serene: it has been such a long time since he had seen a real smile blossoming on his beautiful face, to the point that its memory had almost begun to fade, replaced by the eyes of a hunted prey he widened with increasing frequency, and that little hint of happiness for him was not only a relief, but also a spur to work hard to make sure that this were just the first of a long series.

It was with this thought in mind that he took a decision apparently absurd and inconsistent, but actually perfectly compliant with the new, albeit old, purpose he had set for himself: he would have left North's Palace. The compress he had prepared for Frost was a mere stopgap, a way to soothe the pain and help the healing, not to tackle the problem at its roots: in order to prevent further damage he needed an oil, which would have help the skin to rehydrate and remain elastic, and he knew exactly what to use and where to take it.

Without hesitation he hurried toward the exit, determined to rush to take the shortest time possible and not to let his absence be noticed, but at the last a doubt occurred to him: what if someone had woken up before he returned? What would have happened? They would have put faith in him, patiently waiting to see how the situation would have evolved, or they would have immediately thought about a coward escape, making Frost have a useless and dangerous conniption? No, the risk that something could go wrong was far too high to allow him go away with a light heart: it was better taking precautions and leaving a brief note of explanation, so as not to alarm anyone.

Tiptoeing he reached the desk, tore in half a Christmas card to use the sheet not covered by the drawing and, dipping the quill in the inkwell, he wrote: "I went out to take you a little gift. I'll be back soon".

He didn't said anything more, neither promises, nor greeting, nor declarations of love: it was not his style letting himself go into affectations, especially on paper, where words remains forever, and, what was even worse, on a message that could be read by everyone, so he trusted in the boy's intelligence, sure that he would have been able to go beyond these two meagre sentences and understand the innumerable ones which had been conceived and not reported. In order to help and ease him he copied the text immediately below, using capital letters and taking care to draw each of them with precision, even though the other was now able to read fluently his elegant script, then he signed and summoned the bunny which had been donated to him months ago, letting him bring the ticket: stretching his neck to follow its movements he watched him place its light burden in Jack's open hand, then he left not looking back.

Leaving North's Palace and proceeding up to the Europe's southern borders had been perhaps too easy for Pitch: the Yetis and the elves hadn't recovered yet from the big hunt they had conducted during the three days before and they had cast him only a quick glance, letting him go on his way without protesting, thick and dark clouds had protected his eyes, allowing him to orient himself perfectly and refraining, however, from wetting, and favourable winds had accelerated his flight. The difficulties, however, hadn't taken long to appear: he had simply needed to reach the Caucasus' desert territories to start having problems.

Floods of people had begun to crowd roads and paths, thick, dense, long, too long: endless queues of people with dark skin and light clothes, squads of men, lines of women, swarms of children, armies of desperates marching toward unknown destinations. At first, the Boogeyman had thought it was a gathering of merchants, rare in those areas, in truth, but still possible, but for him it had been enough to watch more closely to see that this wasn't the case: few of them owned wagons, none was carrying valuable goods, many didn't even have a luggage, and all had broken shoes and wounded feet. No, those were not merchants, nor nomads: those were human beings who, now, had little human left.

It hadn't been long before he had started to spot the corpses, at first sparse and scattered, probably belonging to people collapsed with exhaustion on the roadside, then more and more numerous, crammed in squares, buildings, wells, mass graves: any place seemed good to pile the bodies become too many, to get rid of people inconvenient either alive or dead, and the chorus of the scavenger bird's squeaks was the only funeral wake which had been allowed to them.

It was only thanks to his great willpower that Pitch managed to fly over that land of horrors, turning away from the unfortunates covered with soil who hadn't received the mercy of a shot, but when they finally reached the city he realized he had simply jumped out of a folly into another: hordes of armed men patrolled it, shooting anyone they surprised out in the open, digging out those who were hiding in houses with bombs and mortars and descending to the underground shelters to massacre the few fugitives, small groups of people apparently innocent took advantage of the confusion to plunder and rage on isolated individuals, and chaos and violence seemed to have become the only law and the only purpose.

Fleeing away from that collective madness, in which he often couldn't distinguish the abuser from the abused, the Boogeyman swerved towards the western suburbs, heading to the side of a hill where rose the richest houses in the area, and it was with a sigh of relief that he managed to locate the palace he was looking for: partially bombed and clearly deserted, however, it seemed to have weathered the ongoing war, still protected by the palm trees which surrounded it, and there were high hopes that the oil had endured.

After making Voluptas land in the central courtyard he dismounted, leaving the beast free to browse around, and he headed toward the porch, taking without any hesitation a door apparently identical to the others, but which he knew it brought in the wing reserved to the women. With the exception of some large cabinets overturned and small piles of rubble he found no obstacle in its path, the rooms emptied of all furnishings and precious fabrics, but intact, and the hope grew in his heart, but as soon as he turned the corner to enter the make-up room he froze: that area had been completely destroyed by a bomb.

Running through the debris of the fallen walls and the collapsed ceiling he lunged at the dressing table, frantically fumbling among the bottles scattered on its surface to check if something had escaped the explosion, but his expectations were soon disappointed: he remembered perfectly the twisted ampule in which was kept the argan oil, a little masterpiece of glass which mimicked a stem and whose cap had been shaped to form a rosebud just bloomed, and the tiny, sticky fragments of glass green and blue could be nothing but its last remains.

With an angry growl he swept away all the coloured vials, shouting his frustration at the distorted reflection the cracked mirror gave him back: that silly mishap was just the last thing he needed. He could search in other houses, of course, and certainly he would have done it, but how long would have it taken to him to accomplish the mission? He didn't know the other villas' exact maps, nor the habits of those who lived there, so he would have had to sift through almost every single room to guess where the oil was stored, and the possibility to find himself again in front of a shattered bottle were high: he would have needed ages to succeed.

While he tried in vain to calm down and think about a quicker and more effective way to get what he wanted the sound of hurried footsteps and indistinct voices echoed in the corridor, drawing his attention, and Pitch, curious, decided to check the cause: a brief exploration would have, no doubt, helped him to relax and, who knows, maybe even to discover some hidden vials to steal.

Striding down the passage he came to the wing used to rest, trying not to be charmed by the mosaics and the doors and windows' arabesques in order to not get distracted, and when he entered the bedroom he faced an unexpected scene.

On the large bed, the only one in the house which still had a mattress worthy of the name, laid a woman, surrounded by blankets and pillows and softly leaning against the headboard, and she was holding a baby in her arms. Judging by the mother's exhausted expression, the umbilical cord still attached to the child's belly and the smell of blood which wafted into the air the young woman should have given birth to them only a few hours before, and yet she already showed a boundless affection towards the little creature come out of her womb: despite her sleepy eyelids kept closing she continued to sing softly to him, rocking and cuddling him with such delicacy as to seem she feared she could break them, and not even for a moment she averted her touched gaze from their little, frowning face.

Just when Pitch began to wonder if she had given birth to the child all alone and without any help a third person entered the room, announcing himself with a beaming smile and a whispered greeting: a man, dressed in clothes simple, but clean, holding a basket full of figs and dates.

Although it was quite unusual, in those areas, seeing a man serving a woman, this didn't look embarrassed at all as he reached his wife and took care of her, plumping up the pillows on which she was resting, tucking the blanket which warmed her legs and settling the silky veil which covered her hair: gestures undoubtedly dictated by necessity, because she was far too weak to be self sufficient, but also by a deep love which went beyond the millennia-old traditions which characterized that as beautiful as strange corner of the world.

Shaking his head to dispel the thoughts far too mushy which had caught him Pitch turned, glancing at the door from which her husband had come, and then, noticing that the room which it gave access to was crammed with all sorts of objects, he headed there. For a few minutes he quietly rummaged among the piles of goods and supplies, making sure to resettle everything in the same position he had found in order not to arouse the suspicion of the couple, and eventually he succeeded: hidden between a sack of flour and a kohl pot he found an argan oil bottle, banal in its conical shape and in the simple clear glass it was made of, but capacious and filled to the brim- exactly what he needed to help Jack's skin heal not only that day, but also the next ones, perhaps even for weeks.

With a triumphant grin he took possession of the loot, lifting it into the air to observe it backlit and check if it contained impurities, and he almost rejoiced when he realized that the liquid was perfectly crystal clear, but eventually he refrained himself and put it in a bag of magic sand he tied behind his back and secured against his chest. Spotted a window whose lattice of masonry was partially collapsed, creating an opening large enough to allow him to crawl out and drop himself directly in the courtyard where he had left Voluptas, the Boogeyman walked towards it, but at the last he stopped and headed back towards the door, looking in the bedroom.

He stood there for a long time, hidden behind the jamb, spying the small family full of joy, more touching than a Renaissance painting, which, in the midst of that land of hatred, had been able to pursue its love, and which from the death had given birth to life, then, silent as a shadow, he went away.

Striding along the corridor leading to Jack's room Pitch went towards the muffled chatters escaping from the door slightly ajar and, as soon as he opened it, he was struck by a shocked voice which shouted: «Where the heck have you been!?».

Recognizing Bunnymund he turned to him and replied: «To get a gift for Jack, exactly as I wrote in the note I left».

Lowering his ears in a threatening attitude the Pooka asked: «Since when you've become such a softie?».

Although hit where he felt weak the Boogeyman mantained his self-control and replied: «I'm not become a "softie", I just retrieved an oil to spread it on Jack's belly: in case you haven't noticed it's red and chapped. What is the real problem? Did the fact you woke up and saw I was gone again bother you, even though I had left a clear explanation for my absence?».

Puffing his chest the Easter Bunny declared: «That's right: I still don't trust you».

Unperturbed the man concluded: «No problem, I'm not interested into gain your trust».

Then, without deeming him worthy of a glance, he circumvented him and went at his lover's bedside. As he expected he found him awake, still covered with the towel soaked in aloe and chamomile and busy to pet the rabbit of magic sand which had curled up against his side, and when he locked eyes with him he saw him tired, but also infinitely happy, to the point that a wide smile had spontaneously arisen on his lips.

Blatantly ignoring the crowd present Pitch sat down on the mattress next to him and asked: «Good morning, Jack. Did you fear that I had run away again? That I would have never come back?».

Flashing a serious expression the boy denied, shaking his head several times to be sure to be understood, therefore the Boogeyman commented: «Good, Jack, I had no doubt about it: you've always been very brave. I brought you the gift and also a small souvenir: are you happy? Do you want to see them? Alright. The gift is a bottle of argan oil: it's a precious liquid, which is extracted from a plant that grows in the desert, and it helps to keep the skin hydrated, elastic and bright. It will be perfect for your chapped bump, moreover it also has a great scent. The souvenir, instead, it's this sprig of jasmine: as soon as I saw it it immediately made me think of you, and I guessed you might like to receive it».

As he spoke he showed him the two objects, placing the bottle on the bedside table and bringing the spig in front of his face, so that the partner could smell the scent that, actually, resembled resembled a lot his skin's new one, then, seeing he has difficulties, he got closer, waiting a few seconds to let him enjoy the intense aroma and finally wedging the short twig above his right ear.

After few moments spent gazing at his lover crowned with flowers he heard Toothiana murmuring: «Come on, let's go back to work. North, Bunnymund, you should definitely go and retrieve Jack's staff. My fairies had spotted it in Finland, stuck on a root on top of a slope: follow them and they'll bring you there. Sandy and I will stay here and give a hand to Pitch».

Trying to mask the embarrassment he felt in knowing he was literally surrounded by the Guardians Pitch shrugged, then, without turning to say goodbye to the two leaving, he immediately devoted himself to the boy: first he took off the towel, exploiting the clear side to remove the last remnants of poultice and leave his skin almost dry; then, putting it aside, he picked up the bottle he had retrieved, gently uncorking it and studying the broad mouth to figure out the best method to extract the necessary amount of oil without wasting a single drop; finally, after closing it with his palm and overturning it several times, he placed his greasy hand on Jack's bump and began to massage it.

He went on for long, drawing new liquid whenever he deemed it was necessary and making sure to be as gentle as possible, and he averted his eyes from the boy's crystal clear ones only for the few seconds it took to him to recall his rabbit, too starved for that happiness and serenity which had been so slow to come back and too eager to show him the love he felt for him: he wanted to make up for every moment lost in tremendous fear and unnecessary misunderstandings, and drowning into his bright irises was the perfect way to start.

After few minutes, without any warning and without addressing to anyone in particular, he said aloud: «Jack has decided to keep the baby».

Toothiana, who, along with Sandy, had remained in the room to tidy up and put the pillows and the blankets back into the closet, flew beside him and replied: «Yes, we know, Pitch. He decided about a week ago: this was the big news I mentioned when I came in the library to drag you away from the books. I wanted to tell you, but it didn't seem fair to me to pass over Jack and deny him the right to reveal it to you by himself, and then I was afraid you would have not believed me».

«Do not blame yourself, Toothiana: I would have laughed in your face if you'd told me, and, if you had insisted, I would have pushed you away. I was not in the condition to believe anything or anyone» confessed the Boogeyman.

Laying a hand on his shoulder the fairy commented: «Do not blame yourself, too, Pitch: it's understandable you were upset. Let's look to the future, not brood over the past: would you like to know why he took this decision? If Jack agrees and you feel like listening I can explain it to you. I would prefer not to intrude, but, as you can see, Jack is not able to speak, and you have the right to receive more complete answers».

The man and the boy nodded at the same time, lost in each other's eyes, therefore the woman, secured their permission, started: «Let us be clear, it's not fair at all that the Man In The Moon has forced him to get pregnant, and Jack is still angry and disgusted by the way he did that, but it's undeniable that the world needs a new Guardian, and he doesn't want to condemn everybody to destruction just out of fear: the sacrifice he was asked to make, albeit burdensome, it's nothing in comparison to the salvation of all spirits and of mankind, and he's willing to make it. In addition to this forced reason, however, there is one much more personal: he has no way to get rid of the baby without killing them, and he doesn't want to do that for any reason at all. It's true, he never wanted them and carrying them caused him physical and psychological pain, but, actually, what's got to do with the fetus? They didn't ask to be conceived and grow in Jack's belly: among everybody this creature has by far the least fault».

«I don't agree at all with the first reason» immediately stated Pitch; «It does not matter what the world needs, if Jack can't bring himself to continue the pregnancy he's not forced to do so: he can't abase himself for the sake of creatures who wouldn't even be grateful for his sacrifice. The second reason is much more understandable: it's not easy to decide to have an abortion, because, actually, in doing so you kill an innocent creature who might live happily. Anyway, does Jack love the baby? Is he willing to endure months of fatigue, pain and problems to giving birth to them? Is he ready to bear this burden? Only if the answer to all these questions is "yes" I'll breath easy: although abortion is a horrible experience it's far preferable to an unwanted pregnancy».

«You made very intelligent observations, Pitch» commented Toothiana; «I'm glad to see how seriously you are taking the issue: it's very important for you not to underestimate anything. However, yes, Jack has become pretty attached to the child and, now that the symptoms of pregnancy are slowly subsiding, he's learning to appreciate the positive aspects of this unplanned event».

Nodding Pitch picked up a few drops of oil from the bottle, unable to erase from his mind the image of the little family caught cuddling in the abandoned villa and the serenity which pervaded every member of it, and he almost gasped when he felt Frost's fingers intertwining in his own, creating a small cup which perfectly protected his swollen bump: he didn't expect an initiative so sudden and sweet.

Noticing he had opened his mouth he bent over him, in order to spare him the fatigue of raising his voice to be heard, and, following the movement of his lips, he saw him spelling with difficulty the words "can I".

«"Can I?"» he guessed; «Did you say "can I"? Are you asking me if you can keep the child?».

When the boy nodded the Boogeyman smiled and replied: «Oh, baby, you silly boy: you don't need to ask me for permission. It's something that concerns you and you only: you're the only one who has the right to decide. Do not misunderstand, I'm not going to abandon you and I will always stay close to you, doing anything to help you, but I couldn't replace you: you will always carry the greatest burden, and, above all, the child is yours, not mine».

Suddenly Jack's expression, from shy and pleading it was, turned puzzled, his lips wrinkled and his head slightly tilted, as if he were amazed by what he had just been said, and the fairy, albeit hesitantly, interrupted him, pointing out: «But Pitch, actually the child is also yours».

I hope you liked this chapter. Feel free to leave a comment, if you want to, I always like receiving my readers' opinion about the story. Next chapter will be published on the next Friday! I wish you a nice evening


	13. Chapter 13

**WE DON'T HAVE TO BE ALONE – CHAPTER 13**

«But Pitch, actually the child is also yours».

In that statement Pitch struggled to hold back a laugh, managing to stifle it at the last only for the love of Jack, who would have certainly suffered in sensing the deep bitterness which would have permeated it, and forcing himself to keep a neutral tone he replied: «No, they aren't, but it's quite irrelevant for me».

«Of course they are, Pitch, you and Jack are together, whose else should they be?» insisted Toothiana.

Rolling his irises the Boogeyman sarcastically answered: «You know, holding hands is not enough to have a baby».

«What kind of answer is that?» snapped the fairy, pricking up the feathers on her head; «You know that I'm aware of how conception works, and you know very well that I've caught you several times doing exactly what it's required to make it happen, then I don't see the sense of your irreverent remark».

Wincing for the sharp reproach and for the ease with which the other had candidly stated, moreover in front of Frost and Sandman, that she was aware of the intercourses he had with his lover, the man struggled a little to recover, but eventually he protested: «Don't be silly, obviously I wasn't denying what we do together! I was just saying that that, on its own, is not enough: Jack's body has never been fit to carry on a pregnancy, he got pregnant because someone changed him, and who did that is not me».

Suddenly lowering her feathers the Guardian looked at him and asked: «Pitch, do you believe that the father is the Man In The Moon?».

Snorting slightly Pitch commented: «No, Don't you say? It seems pretty self-evident».

Clasping her arms around herself Toothiana swung a little, then she whispered: «Well, it doesn't seem self-evident at all, you know that the Man In The Moon didn't... well...».

Hearing her hesitating the Boogeyman narrowed his eyes and completed: «"Raped him"? Is this what you meant? He just had to dare, that beast, maggot, nothing but a miserable creature! If he had done it there wouldn't have existed neither prayers, nor chains able to restrain me: I would have flown on his pathetic satellite and I would have decapitated him with my bare hands! If he had done that no protection would have been enough to save him from my wrath!».

Delicate fingers touched him with infinite tenderness, caressing the back of his right hand, still resting on the boy's swollen belly, but no more busy on massaging it, and when he lowered his eyes he met Jack's, shiny with tears for the effort to remain focused and, at the same time, full of affection and concern.

Regretting having vented in that way in front of his partner the man hastened to add: «But I promised that, if the Man In The Moon behaves, I won't take any revenge, and I'll keep my word. Returning to what we were talking about, since he's been able to make his abdomen fertile just by touching it, it's clear that he owns immense powers and knowledge, so he's not forced to obey the laws of nature: it doesn't matter if he hasn't had an intercourse with him, he surely just needed to press his hand on his belly to fecundate him».

Letting out a small sigh the fairy countered: «What you're saying is certainly sensible, but not necessarily probable: the fact that the Man In The Moon owns enormous powers and perhaps even one which allows him to make Jack pregnant just by touching him doesn't mean that he has done it».

Shrugging to shake the bother that speech caused him Pitch asked: «What are you getting at, exactly? Your speech has no beginning or end: why should he not use such a power?».

«Probably to let you be the baby's father and transmit them a part of yourself» answered the woman.

At that statement the Boogeyman's strong self control could nothing but fail: he didn't even have the time to think about restraining himself, and in less than a second he found himself almost doubled over with laughter, shaken by a hilarity so uncontrollable to hinder his breathing and causing him hiccups, and animated by such an incredulity to prevent him from formulating a sensible comeback.

Blatantly ignoring the look of reproach that the other gave him he focused on the window, counting the tiny snowflakes which had begun to fall a few minutes before to calm down, and reflecting on his little snowflake's pitiful conditions to return serious and to find motivation again, then pointed out: «Toothiana, seriously, are you okay? You've been raving for two minutes, getting worse and worse, and you're starting to worry me. To let me be the baby's father, you say? To let me transmit them a part of myself? What, exactly? The scary one, the violent one or the cruel one? Come on, stop babbling nonsense! I'm the Man in the Moon's worst enemy, not his favourite: the only thing he wants from me is submission, and he will never have it».

Crossing her arms Toothiana pouted and contradicted him: «Actually, as the great strategist you are, you should know that it's better to keep your friends close and your enemies even closer, anyway...».

«Oh, then I should conclude that you've welcomed me into your circle only to control me?» insinuated the man in a venomous tone.

«Pitch!» rebuked him the fairy, stamping her foot.

After closing her eyes and clenching fists for a few seconds, clearly busy digesting the anger, she finally managed to relax, and she declared: «I'll never repeat it enough: sometimes you're really a child. I'll pretend not to hear and go on with my speech. I was saying, have you ever wondered why, among all the spirits, the Man In The Moon chose Jack to give life to the new Guardian?».

Taken aback both by the reprimand, decidedly too similar to the ones the parents yell at their children, and by the question, Pitch took a moment to ponder, then, holding back himself from making yet another sharp comment, he replied: «I wondered it, but I didn't find any plausible answer».

Casting a quick glance at Frost, as to make sure if he was able to bear the rest of the discussion, the woman said: «Let's be sincere, among all of us Jack was certainly the least suitable to deal with a pregnancy. He's the least ancient, therefore his powers haven't well stabilized yet, nor grown, his body is young, his mind, no matter how mature, not ready to accept such a sudden change, his role incompatible with such a responsibility: from this point of view he was the worst choice possible. Anyone else would have had fewer problems: Sandy, Bunnymund, you, even North, and not to mention me! Why didn't he choose me, Pitch? I'm a woman, I have a strong and clear maternal instinct, I love taking care of others and I've always wanted to have children to look after: I would have been the perfect candidate, and Manny would have just needed to trouble himself to make me conceive. I would have no doubt reacted with surprise when I'd realized I were pregnant, because I don't have a partner and I wouldn't have expected such a novelty, but then I'd have pulled myself together in no time, rejoicing at the idea I had fulfilled one of my dreams, appreciating every moment of the pregnancy and taking care of myself and the unborn baby in the best way: the exact opposite of Jack's panic and involuntary self-destruction. Why, Pitch? Why struggling so much to change a person not suitable, and risking losing both him and the foetus, when it would have been enough choosing another spirit to achieve the desired result without firing a shot? It's obvious that Jack has something special which drew Manny's attention: a deep sweetness, no doubt, a great ability to love his neighbour, it's undeniable, but, in the end, the thing that really makes him different from us is you. Do not misunderstand, he's special on his own and for thousands of reasons we both know: I'm just talking about this new matter. Jack has changed a lot for you, really a lot: he has learned to love, to express his feelings, to become altruist, even to sacrifice himself, and whatever he does he can always be sure to have your constant and loving support».

«So, in other words, Jack is suitable because he has a self-sacrifice spirit and a person willing to assist him continually. Well, I must admit that I can't imagine a better environment to give birth to a child» intervened the Boogeyman in a sarcastic tone.

«I punched you in the past, and will not hesitate to do it again, if there's the need to!» snapped Toothiana, on the brink of exasperation; «This time I won't overlook: is this really your plan for the coming months? Assisting Jack with undisguised impatience, praying that the pregnancy will end as soon as possible and completely ignoring the baby who will born?».

«No, of course not!» immediately denied the man, albeit upset at the idea of having to accept a new person in his circle of acquaintances, moreover an infant; «I do not... no matter how the situation will evolve it's undeniable it started in the worst way possible».

«Yes, it's true» admitted the fairy; «But that doesn't mean it can't improve. You've already understood what mistakes you made, you'll remedy together, getting even closer than before and live happily, and you'll participate to the child's education as you'd have never done, if they had been carried by someone else. You are unique, Pitch, just like all of us, and along with Jack you've created something special which has never existed before: this made you the best possible choice».

«You're really harassing!» blurted out Pitch.

Looking away from the woman, who he had struggled to stare back at since the very beginning of the conversation, he settled himself better on the mattress, massaging the base of his back to pretend a cramp and justify his sudden darkening, and he started to reflect: he had wholly realized only in that moment that, by accepting the pregnancy, in fact he accepted the baby, too, and therefore not only their presence, but also the responsibility of raising and educating him. How could he have properly taken care of them if, until now, he had paid attention to infants only to despise them? How could he have guaranteed them a serene life if terrorizing brats was his work and main source of fun? How could he have even thought about standing next to them if the mere sight of a couple of kids aroused his hatred? He would have had to fight against his own nature all the time, probably failed miserably, but, actually, should it have gone this way? Had he really had to bear also this huge burden? Wasn't it better that, once born, the infant were taken elsewhere, bred in a safe place by trustworthy people, kept in dark about the existence of the black beast which had looked after them until they had even opened their eyes to the world?

Although fearing that his lover could sense the anxiety he felt and, therefore, get upset in turn, the Boogeyman lowered the irises, determined to observe the other to try to understand how much he had become affectionate to the creature unborn and how much participation he was asking to him, but, as soon as he spotted his face, he realized he had fallen asleep: his eyelids, albeit trembling, were closed, his breath, albeit hissing and troubled, deep, and his tired expression too relaxed not to betray the torpor which had caught him. Suddenly feeling guilty for having taken a step back, even if only in his mind, in a matter of such importance, the man decided to temporarily put aside his uncertainties, justified, given the exceptional nature of the situation, but far too early, considered that the birth would have been months and months later, and he mentally left himself some time to process everything and draw his own conclusions: in that moment he had other pressing issues to think about.

It was for this reason that, with absolute sincerity, he stated: «Toothiana, I don't believe you, but, as I said from the beginning, it doesn't matter for me if the baby is mine: they're no doubt Jack's child, he got affectionate to them and decided to keep them, and I will support his choice, helping him whenever he needs me. For his sake I can promise I'll force myself to try to love them, but I can't know how it'll go, and, frankly, for now I don't care: I have more pressing issues to think about. Look at Jack, he's exhausted, and that's not normal: we must prepare a new dose of absinthe».

Unexpectedly Toothiana smiled and replied: «No, Pitch, do not force yourself: you cannot impose yourself to love someone. Behave naturally, take care to make Jack happy and to be happy, and you'll see that, within the birth, you'll know better what you want. Returning to the issue, yes, I noticed that Jack is exhausted. Surely the pregnancy and the strains he made have worn him a lot, but, in my opinion, also reflecting on how his condition has evolved over the past week, the problem is different: have you noticed his arms? They've always been skinny, this is undeniable, but not so thin! And the chest, then, do we have to talk about it? We can count the ribs one by one, and on the left side we can even see the skin pulsating! It's useless giving him the medicine, because he doesn't have large wounds to cure: in my opinion, in order to recover and regain his energies, he simply has to eat».

Frowning Pitch pointed out: «Indeed your idea makes sense. The baby was born thanks to magic, and I suppose they draw a large part of their strength from magic, like all the rest of us, but they need raw material to grow: it's much easier creating flesh from other flesh rather than power in its purest state. It's likely that, until now, he has simply stolen it from Jack, and actually this doesn't surprise me at all: a child is in all respects a parasite. Medically speaking, of course».

The hasty clarification which he had added at the end, fortuitous illumination occurred to him as soon as he had seen the interlocutor flaring up at the word "parasite", probably saved him from a sharp slap, but not from the rebuke: staring at him with her eyes narrowed and her hands clasped around her knees the fairy curled her lips, then she hissed, gritting her teeth: «You managed to save yourself from me by a hair's breadth, but I remind you that Jack has a very limited scientific knowledge».

«Ah, you're so annoying, I'm taking care to teach him and give him a culture, I know much better than you how wide his knowledge is! Don't waste our time with obviousnesses, stay focused on the serious matters: what should we feed Jack on? He needs something that can give a lot of energies, easy to digest, worm and, if possible, liquid, in order to spare him the trouble of chewing» asserted the Boogeyman, deftly averting the discussion.

Thoughtfully flattening the feathers on her head the woman suggested: «A soup? I mean a velvet sauce, of course. Um, but vegetables are certainly not a substantial food... maybe we could add some meat? A well-cooked braised beef should be fine, we just need to boil it until it falls apart and Jack will manage to swallow it without any problem».

«It would take hours to cook it, and, if there weren't the right meat in the ice-house, half a day to slaughter an animal: no, we need something more available and easy to prepare» countered the man.

Rejected that suggestion the two began to reflect in silence, the first scratching his neck and the second sticking out her chin, but, just when both seemed to have reached a dead end in their short list of ideas, Sandman, who had stood by all the time enjoying the warmth of the fire, intervened, blowing a thin curl of sand towards the bed and compacting it to form a thin tile decorated with small rectangles.

«Chocolate?» guessed Pitch, who had always been inclined to understand the sign language used by the Bringer of Dreams; «Yes, this is indeed a good solution! It takes a few minutes to be prepared, and I'm sure that North has all the ingredients: considered how many sweets he eats his kitchen can't certainly lack cocoa, milk and starch. May you prepare it, Toothiana? Use honey instead of sugar: it melts better and it'll help Jack's sore throat to heal».

«Sure, I'll be back in no time!» promptly exclaimed Toothiana, flying away with a leap and disappearing as fast as an arrow in the hallway.

Confused by the sudden movement and the flutter of the feathers the Boogeyman realized only after a few seconds that the other had already left to prepare the drink, then, since he had nothing else to do, he took again the bottle of argan oil, determined to spread a second layer on the boy's skin, which had already dried up; as soon as he uncorked it, however, he saw Sandy growing sad and turning ruefully to the fireplace, and almost without realizing it he said: «You don't have to stand by, if you want to you can come here».

He was only partially surprised to have called him, well aware that now he had learnt to appreciate the Guardians' company and, in particular, the smallest and most powerful of them: his silent presence had become reassuring for him, so sunny, so serene, never obtrusive, never too much, always incredibly capable of doing the right thing at the right time to make everyone feel at ease, and the man couldn't have done nothing but rejoicing at this discovery, effective help to soothe the agitation caused by the long and friendly conversations which he had participated to. He perfectly remembered the lazy hours spent beside him, passed drinking tea or warming up in the light of the hearth, each on his own armchair, but not thereby alone, each in silence, but not embarrassed, he would have never forgotten his silky magic sand, come pitiful in the worst moments of the previous months to give him a little rest, and it was for this that he didn't widen his eyes when he saw him close his cupped hands and offer a small, fickle golden ball.

«No, thank you» he politely refused; «I don't want to sleep, and, anyway, I've already rested, but I'm sure Jack will appreciate this gift when he'll finish eating».

After straightening his back and nodding, in order to make clear that, in truth, what the other had proposed had been his intention from the beginning, Sandman moves his forearms in sinuous waves and evoked new sand, letting it thicken by itself in bizarre shapes and carefully selecting those to be added to the sphere of sleep already produced, and Pitch, accompanied by that faintest rustle, picked up where he had left off, carefully massaging every inch of reddened skin he could spot.

Just when he was satisfied with the result and he decided to close the bottle a vibrant hum went up the corridor, penetrating into the room and announcing the arrival of the fairy, but it was only after several seconds that this came to the door, her palms open to hold a small tray and her eyes firmly locked on it.

«Forgive me for the wait» she justified herself in a low voice; «Usually I have no problem to pass through doors, because I just close my wings for a while and lunge, but this time, of course, I couldn't do that, or I would have spilled everything. However, every cloud has a silver lining: the chocolate cooled down during the trip, so it should be warm enough to be drunk right now».

Standing up the Boogeyman came to meet her, both to free her from the load and to speed up the operations, and he carefully placed the tray on the night table, moving the dirty towel which still covered it; then, taking care to move carefully in order not to burn himself, he slid his fingers on the large cup and grabbed it, blending the drink with a spoon and daring to taste a sip; finally, made sure the liquid had reached the optimal temperature, he momentarily put it aside, preparing to awaken his lover.

«Jack? Jack, can you hear me? It 's time to wake up» he whispered, caressing his cheek and gently shaking his shoulder.

Unlike he expected he didn't have to wait long before seeing the other stirring and opening his eyes, and when his pupils still veiled by sleep managed to focus him he said: «Good, Jack: you pulled yourself together quickly this time. You're very tired, aren't you? We have all noticed it, and Toothiana thought that eating could help you recover and regain your energies. Do you feel like trying? Here's a hot chocolate just for you».

Although still disoriented the boy showed interest and tried to collaborate, turning his head to look at his partner's outstretched hand and levering on his arms to get up, but his strength failed almost immediately and the man and Sandy came to his aid, the first holding him and lifting his thorax, the second plumping up and piling the pillows behind his back. Once he had properly settled him Pitch covered his chest with a soft beige blanket, perhaps the same one that, months earlier, he had wrapped around his waist to venture out of the bed during his convalescence, then he picked up the cup and asked: «Ready to drink?».

Received a positive response which sounded more like a sob he leaned forward, dipped the spoon into the chocolate to fill it and blew on it to waste heat, then, moving with delicacy, he placed it in the partner's mouth, slowly tilting it in order not to choke him.

Seeing him swallow without difficulty and even clean up the piece of cutlery with this tongue was a real relief, the assurance that, though not soon, the due cures hadn't arrived either too late, and a spontaneous smile rose on his lips, reward for Jack and liberation for himself after days of useless and consuming agony. It was almost without noticing the passage of time that the improvised nurse went on, constantly blending the drink and patiently feeding the wounded, oblivious of the other two guests present and completely lost in his lover's misty eyes, and it was only after a grimace of disappointment from this that he realized he had offered him several times a spoon now empty, the bottom of that creamy liquid too shallow to be drawn.

«Oh, I'm sorry, Jack» he apologized; «I hadn't realized that it was over. Did you like it? You licked your lips all the time, if I noticed well. It's been a long time since you drank a little, huh?».

Blushing slightly the boy shook his head, eyeing the bowl several times and rubbing the sheet with his hands as if he felt embarrassed, and the man, puzzled, asked: «Wait... you've never eaten chocolate before now? Is this what are you trying to tell me?».

He almost couldn't believe his own eyes when he saw the other nodding, and immediately exclaimed: «Never? Seriously? I cannot believe it! When you were born, chocolate was expensive not widespread and yet very raw and bitter, so I'm not surprised that you haven't tasted it, but later? Didn't you ever got curious? That's incredible. I would have bet you did, seeing how nosy you're, but apparently you're only interested in getting into trouble».

At that provocation Frost pouted and, offended, he turned his face away, stubbornly staring at the window and raising a chorus of laughters; after soothing the hilarity, however, Pitch put aside the spoon and, caressing his partner's cheek to make him turn, he murmured: «The bottom remainder is the tastiest, and you don't want to leave it, right? If you keep pouting after I'll have scraped it away for you I'll be forced to eat it all alone».

With a jerk sudden and unexpectedly rapid, considering his weakness, the boy turned his head again, looking alternately his lover and the cup and sticking his tongue out from his parted lips to show his impatience, and the Boogeyman purposely protracted as much as possible the scraping, obviously also to collect every drop of the chocolate left, but above all to tease the other and keep him on his toes.

After nearly more than a minute Jack couldn't resist any more and, gurgling a raspy and clearly annoyed groan, he called him to order, welcoming with a satisfied smile the last spoonful of the sweet drink and emitting a vibrating, approving moan; glad to see him so happy the man smiled back, allowing himself a small moment of suspension and absently stroking his hair, then he whispered: «You did good, Jack, very good: now you can finally rest. Close your eyes and relax: Sandy has prepared a golden dream just for you.».

Sliding his hand over his face the lowered his eyelids, touching his lips in a final farewell and wincing when he felt them contracting to give him a light kiss; then stepped aside, leaving the field open to Sandman and nodding to allow him to begin; finally, following with a charmed gaze the sinuous swirls of golden sand, he watched him slip into a deep and peaceful sleep, and he let out a sigh.

It had been almost two hours since Jack had fallen asleep, and Pitch had exploited them for many activities, involuntarily taking part in the Palace's life. At first he had come back in the infirmary, in order to prepare a new dose of aloe and chamomile compress and tidy up what the previous time he hadn't put away, then he had returned into the bedroom, applied the compress on his lover's bump and unrolled the bandages wrapped around his feet, now become unnecessary protections for a skin almost completely healed; then, determined to plan also his partner's future meals, he had visited the kitchen, dodging bungling elves and grim Yetis to browse into every corner and cupboard, and with great pleasure he had seen that the variety of foods available was sufficiently broad to allow the preparation of different dishes, both sweet and savoury; finally, fulfilled all his duties, he had retired in their room, watching over the sleeping lover and reading few pages from an ancient Toothiana's tome to kill time.

A comings and goings of visitors had travelled along the corridor, some silent, others more noisy, but the Boogeyman had never let himself being distracted, interrupting the reading only to answer to the direct questions which were made to him and raising his eyes only towards the boy; at the end of the third hour, however, something happened, too striking to be ignored, and he had to finally give up the quiet break he had carved out for himself.

It all started with a simple buzz: a faint vibration, almost imperceptible, which crept down the hallway and went up from the floor through the man's legs, bothering and massaging his muscles at the same time; then the noise became louder and louder, echoing in the air and fading into two different tones, one shrill and sometimes acute, the other much more deep; finally, with a sharp crack, the ceiling collapsed, creating a hole which sucked all the rubble, instead of letting them fall to the ground, and from it sprang out Bunnymund.

«I brought you the staff, Jack!» shouted the newcomer.

The man, who had jumped up in fright and tamed with difficulty the instinct to throw the book against the intruder and summon the army of Nightmares in full force, glared at him and hissed: «Are you crazy!? Do you think that this is the proper way to enter a convalescent's room? I was about to kill you, and I assure you that you would have deserved it!».

The Pooka, who, meanwhile, had realized he had busted in the midst of a nap and had silently closed the tunnel, faintly countered: «Even if you had tried you would have never managed to hurt me: I'm too strong and too fast for you. Either way, I burst into the room in this way because I needed to enter here before North».

Placing the book on the night table Pitch provoked him: «Oh, before North, in order to take all the credit for the staff's recovery, right? Tell me, «Since when you've become such a softie?».

When he heard the man dedicating him the same sarcastic joke he had addressed him half day before, the Easter Bunny frowned, menacingly lowering his ears and narrowing his eyes to better express his outrage, but he didn't open his mouth, nor flinch when North pounced on the front door and stomped in.

«I heard that Jack began to eat, so I brought a slice of fruitcake!» he boomed, exhibiting a wooden plate and a small fork.

Astonished by that entrance, which lacked just a fanfare to create more confusion, the Boogeyman motioned them to be quiet, bringing the index to his mouth, but when he saw Frost stirring and opening his eyes with difficulty he gave up and blurted out: «Congratulations, you've woken him up!».

Rubbing his eyelids to shake himself the boy cleared his throat, then he whispered: «No, don't worry, you didn't disturbed me: I was half awake when you entered here. Thank you for the staff, Bunnymund, and thank you for the fruitcake, North: to be sincere I craved a piece of cake. I'll come to pick them up».

The tone in which he had talked was a bit rasping, but perfectly understandable, and his lips had never trembled, so the man could do nothing but rejoice to hear him speak, but, as soon as he heard the last sentence, he stated: «You're going nowhere: sit down, stay quiet and leave it to us. Do you want to check the staff or may I directly place it against the wall?».

Meekly obeying the order Jack laid back against the pillows and answered: «No, thank you: it's not damaged, I'm sure, so it's useless for me to hold it. Can I eat?».

At this request the master of the house hastened to offer him the dish and the piece of cutlery, making him gestures of encouragement with his hands until Jack cut a morsel and brought it to his mouth and blatantly ignoring the exasperated glares addressed to him by Bunnymund, who, meanwhile, had placed the staff in the corner of the room farthest from the fireplace, then, after beaming at seeing his guest enjoying the food, he concluded: «Good, very good! I would say that you don't lack anything, do you? If it is so I and Bunnymund will go: we have something very important to discuss about».

Without waiting for a reply he clapped his hands once, then he turned and walked toward the door, grabbing the Pooka along the way and starting to praise in a loud voice his sled's magnificent qualities, while the unfortunate party strove in every way to move the short legs fast enough not to get dragged and, at the same time, to defend his tunnels' sublime values.

Looking up to the ceiling Pitch waited for the duo to go away, extremely annoyed by those silly debates, but glad to hear the boy laughing at the funniest exclamations he could grasp, and when he could no longer distinguish the accusation of the first from the attacks of the second he commented: «I do not know why, but I have the slight sensation that those two spent more time to discuss about what means to use rather than to search your staff. Ah, let's just forget this! How do you feel? Did you recover? I was surprised to hear you starting to talk again so fast».

«I'm fine, thanks» promptly replied Frost; «In truth I've never really found hard speaking, or, rather, doing it quietly and slowly never tired me too much, but every time I opened my mouth I felt my throat burn so terribly, so I gave up. I'm sorry I forced you to interpret my signs, but I couldn't do better. Now, however, it doesn't burn any more: the honey you asked to put in the chocolate was good for me».

The Boogeyman, who in the meantime had sat down next to his lover, was surprised by that statement and asked: «Honey? Did you recognize it while you were drinking? What a fine palate you have!».

«No, to be honest no» admitted the boy; «I heard you mentioning it and saying that it would have helped to cure my sore throat. I wasn't really sleeping while you were discussing about what dish to prepare, I was just too tired to keep my eyes open and breathe normally».

Displeased, but at the same time touched, in knowing that the lover had done anything to follow the conversation to the end, the man said nothing, merely caressing his right thigh through the thin blanket draped over it and waiting for him finish the meal; after several seconds of silence, however, he felt obliged to raise his head and see what was going on, and when he found himself in front of the other's bewildered and almost forlorn expression he got worried.

«Jack, is there something wrong?» he hastened to ask; «Maybe you don't feel good? Are you sick or something?».

Jack hesitated for a long time, making his gaze rove around the room so as not to cross his partner's ones, but in the end he gave up and, keeping them lowered, he replied: «No, I... you... can you feed me, Pitch? Like you did with the chocolate?».

Letting out a chuckle Pitch demanded: «Is that all? There was no need for you to worry so much about asking: I'm glad to give you a hand».

Without hesitation he took the plate and the fork, cut a small morsel and offered it to him, but the boy turned his face and confessed: «I didn't ask you because I need a hand: I can hold the plate and cut the cake without problems. I asked you because I enjoyed being fed by you».

The Boogeyman winced at that admission, as unexpected as sweet, but he recovered quickly and, smiling, he replied: «I'm glad to hear it. Did it make you feel special? Did it make you feel loved, baby? We can do this as many times as you want, even at every meal: I love feeding you».

A new light appeared in Frost's eyes, lighting them up with immeasurable joy and gratitude, and he instinctively placed his right hand on his heart, blushing at such a privilege; he stared at him for long, sometimes trying to talk, sometimes to nod, perhaps too excited to be able to decide what was the best thanksgiving, but in the end he just opened his mouth, taking the piece of dessert with his teeth and swallowing it.

Slightly loosening his grip on the fork, to avoid the risk of inadvertently stinging the partner, the man cut off another morsel from the fruitcake and handed it to the boy again, tilting the prongs to follow the movement of his mouth and pulling them back he began to chew, and he took advantage of the wait to tuck the blanket; the other, in turn, responded meekly to his every move, patiently waiting for him to offer him the cake, licking his lips to gather the compote which had dirtied them and relaxing the shoulders to allow him drape the blanket better. They went on for a long time, lost in each other's eyes, the first feeding, the second being fed, the first happy to help, the second happy to be helped, the first proud to be a point of reference for his lover, the second appreciative to have such a valid support: it was a mutual exchange, selfish and altruistic, the mixed pleasure of giving and receiving, the oxymoronic combination of right and wrong between which there was not a clear boundary, and they both appreciated that unique and precious moment of intimacy, not sensing anything amiss in that share and simply feeling satisfied, useful for themselves and for the other.

Having some difficulties in piercing the last piece of cake Pitch gave up, taking it between thumb and forefinger and gently sliding it into the partner's open mouth, then he caressed his lips and asked: «Are you satisfied, baby? I noticed you struggled to swallow the last bites».

Jack didn't answer immediately, too busy to chew and swallow piece by piece a mouthful to relieve the fatigue, but when he succeeded he immediately declared: «Neither yes, nor no. I struggled to swallow because the fruitcake was very dry, not because I was full, but, to be honest, I'm not accustomed yet to the feeling of hunger, then, who knows?, maybe I'm already full? I really don't know. However, can I have something to drink?».

Not surprised at all by that statement the Boogeyman replied: «Don't worry, it's understandable that you feel disoriented: you haven't been eating for more than three centuries, moreover you're expecting a child, then the sense of hunger is yet to normalize. Since you're not sure about what you feel it's better for you to stop here, okay? If you ate too much you'd just end up feeling sick and frustrating all the efforts you did. If the fruitcake was dry, and I don't find hard to believe it, it's better for you to drink something, then sure, gladly: would you like a bit of milk? Here I have a dairy glass that I brought from the kitchen just for you, but if you prefer something different just ask».

«No, milk is fine, I used to like it so much!» exclaimed the boy, already excited at the idea of tasting again the white drink after a long time.

Without further ado the man stood up, walked around the bed and went to the bedside table, then he left the plate on it and lifted the napkin which covered the full glass; after making his lover cup his hands he handed it to him, waiting for him, at least in that case, to deal with it by himself, drinking at his own pace the amount he wanted and not risking to suffocate him for too much solicitude; finally, eager to reward him for the great progresses made, he stretched out his arm to wipe his lips with the cloth, but at the last he changed his mind and leaned forward, licking away the milk moustache and giving him a quick kiss.

Frost winced instinctively at that gesture, twisting his mouth when he felt his tongue tickle it and then remedying with a late kiss which smacked in the air, but then he burst out laughing immediately, soon imitated by the partner that, to amuse him even more, slid a hand under the smaller blanket and pinched his side. After some vain attempts to break free the boy grabbed him by the wrist, pulling him away with difficulty between a sob and a chuckle, but in the end he managed to soothe the hilarity and, in serious tone, he said: «Pitch, I need to ask you something important: I'd want you to call my Nightmare».

Pitch, who was still grinning for the double joke he had conceived, absently asked: «Voluptas? Sure, I'll call it right now».

«No, not Voluptas» immediately stopped him Jack; «I meant the Nightmare I helped to grow during your convalescence, the very special one, capable both to lure and scare».

Dumbfounded the Boogeyman frowned and demanded: «That Nightmare? I suppose you want to see it destroyed, since it attempted to attack you, but I don't think it's the case to kill it here, nor in front of you: the death of such a beast is a show too strong for you, and I'm not willing to upset you, nor to scare you. I could ask Sandy to destroy it instead of me, to spare you the most excruciating part, but I'd rather spare you everything: you're pregnant, I don't want you to feel bad. Are you so eager to see it with your own eyes? Maybe you could watch from afar and cover your ears in order not to hear».

«No, Pitch, I don't want you to kill him: I want to let it approach me and see what it'll do» replied the boy with a resolute expression.

«You're crazy, right?» exclaimed the man, shocked; «Less than four days ago it crept into this room and tried to attack you, to bite the precious child you've decided to keep, and now, what do you do?, you voluntarily make it enter here and leave him free rein! Not even in your wildest dreams!».

«No, it's not true, it didn't try to bite my belly, it had only leant forward its muzzle!» promptly countered Frost.

«To bite you!» insisted Pitch.

«Maybe just to watch closely!» defended it the boy.

«It's a Nightmare, Jack, not a pet, it's born to kill, and it lives only of that».

«Not necessarily, not always! Let me at least try, please?».

«No!».

«What the hell is going on here?» intervened a female voice, interrupting the fight just when it was becoming more heated.

The Boogeyman, who already in the second sentence had jumped up on his feet in order to better express his indignation and to reaffirm more explicitly he would have never, ever satisfied the partner's insane desire, snapped: «Jack is crazy. Maybe he hit his head, maybe it's because of his pregnancy, I have no idea, I just know that he needs to be cured, because he has a problem, a rather serious one».

«Stop calling me crazy!» cried Jack, angrily pulling down the blanket to uncover the chest and shout better.

«Guys, stop it! You're just hurting yourself by screaming and arguing in this way! Calm down. Now, may I know what's going on? And woe to the one who restarts bickering!» silenced them Toothiana, leaving the pile of clothes she was holding on the dresser and approaching the two litigants.

Without hesitation the man took the floor and insisted: «I told you, Jack has gone crazy. Do you remember the Pureblood which crept in here four days ago and which almost tore him to pieces? He doesn't only want me not to destroy it, but he even pretends that I call it back and allow it to approach him! Would you believe it? It's a madness».

«It's not a madness, you keep saying it was going to attack me, but actually you can't know that at all! According to me he came close just out of curiosity» reiterated the boy.

«Okay, okay, I understood the point» interrupted them the fairy, hushing them with a wave of the hand; «Pitch, I already told you my opinion about the Pureblood: in hindsight its expression seemed confused and suspicious, not aggressive, so it's probable it got closer just to browse. Have a go, give Jack a chance: now you're well rested and much more concentrated than a week ago, so there is no danger that the Nightmare could escape your control».

«But how is it possible that you always agree with him and support him!?» shouted Pitch.

Too shocked to be able to soothe the anger simply by exercising all the self-control he had he growled, opening his hands like claws to create four small Nightmares and therefore driving them out with a loud whip, then he turned and barked: «Have you forgotten what happened seven months ago? Have you forgotten how that same Nightmare attacked you, even though I was present and aware and you had lowered your guard just for a few moments? It's a machine devoted to destruction, it cannot be tamed, and he recognizes me as its master only as long as I go along with its murderous wishes!».

«No, Pitch, I perfectly remember» quietly replied the woman; «I remember a creature young and immature, still too disoriented to behave properly, I remember a master attentive, but still too weak to assert his authority with his mere presence, and I remember a touching meeting between two beings which barely knew each other and which, yet, managed to understand and respect each other whole hog. You're going down with me: I am the Guardian of Memory, you cannot hope I can forget something, moreover if it's an event so unique. You're afraid, and it's understandable, but you should not pander it: you should have more confidence in your abilities and in Jack's intuition».

Taken aback by her answer the Boogeyman realized that stubbornness would have achieved any result, so he changed his strategy and, in a venomous tone, he insinuated: «And how are you going to welcome the Nightmare, huh, Jack? Lying on the bed, naked, maybe even with your arms and legs spread to be more vulnerable?».

Blushing intensely Frost countered: «I can put on some clothes, of course!».

«What a pity you don't have clothes to wear now» pointed out the man, looking smugly at him.

«Oh, don't worry, I came here just to bring them to you. They're your usual clothes, Jack, washed and perfumed: I'll pick them up from the pile of towels and sheets» stated Toothiana.

Growling the man followed her with his eyes, his arms crossed, his mouth distorted into an angry sneer and his hands clenched into fists to hold back the magic sand which roared through his veins, pulsing just to break free and tie her up, and when he saw her coming back he hissed: «You can wear all the clothes you want, even an iron diving suit, but that won't make me change my mind about the Nightmare».

«Independently of what you'll decide to do with the Nightmare Jack needs to get dressed, don't you agree? He cannot stay in bed for months, and certainly he cannot go around naked. Give him a hand, come on: when he's ready you could have a walk around here and clear your minds» suggested the fairy.

«He can stay in bed a little longer, and he should do so» retorted Pitch.

«If you don't help me I'll do it myself» concluded the boy.

Calmly and with his brow furrowed in a concentrated expression he took the clothes which had been brought to him, waited for the woman to turn and it uncovered his legs, kicking away the blanket in order not to have it in the way; rummaging in the pile of garments he retrieved at first the pants, which he wore without any difficulty, then his trousers, which, instead, required him greater efforts and contortions, and which he immediately gave up to fasten; finally, he unfolded the shirt, first sliding in it the arms, then the head, but when he tried to lower it he realized that it was too tight to cover his swollen belly.

«Oh-oh, it seems there's a problem here» commented with a triumphant smile the Boogeyman.

Jack stood motionless for a few seconds, his eyes wide in front of that discovery and his expression incredulous and vexed, but then he reacted in a completely unexpected way.

I hope you liked this chapter. Feel free to leave a comment, if you want to, I always like receiving my readers' opinion about the story. Next chapter will be published on the 7th of November (on Friday, as usual), because the next week I'll be at the Lucca Comics! If you're interested in my cosplays you can check my tumblr blog. I wish you a nice evening


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